The Mirror in the Attic
by Sophie1973
Summary: When Felicity Smoak inherits a house from the late Oliver Queen, she struggles to understand why the old man would leave her his home. They are at least two generations apart, and they have never met. Until she walks into the house and experiences the weirdest feeling of déjà vu, and discovers Oliver and her actually know each other very well. Just in another lifetime.
1. Chapter 1

The human resources manager gave the young woman sitting in front of her a sympathetic smile. "I'm sorry, Felicity, but they decided to give the position to Roger Harris. Don't worry, I'm sure it's just a question of time before another interesting position opens up for you."

"Thank you, Mrs Sherman."

Felicity stood up, giving the other woman a smile she hoped concealed her deep disappointment. It was the second time in 9 months she was supplanted by a man for a higher position. Not that she disputed their qualifications, she just felt she deserved the chance as much as they did. She had really thought this was her shot .

Queen Consolidated had been founded by Thea Queen about 60 years ago, and the company prided itself in maintaining equality between its male and female employees both for career opportunities and salaries.

But Thea had died two years ago, and her grandson Jonas was now the CEO. He had made it clear since the beginning that he would keep the legacy of his grandmother alive and well, and Felicity was pretty sure he meant it. It wasn't a very comforting thought when she was the one passed over for a promotion. But who knows? Maybe she didn't get it because a more exciting one was waiting for her in the wings. She preferred to see things that way. Petty thoughts against her management were human, but not exactly her style.

Felicity took her time going back to the 12th floor where the IT department was located. By the time she reached her cubicle, she noticed it was lunch time and everybody had left the office. Se went to the kitchen to get her sandwich before coming back to sit at her desk. She might as well get on with her work.

* * *

When her alarm went off the next morning, Felicity let out a deep sigh. For a minute she considered calling in sick, but her professional ethics were stronger than that. She wasn't going to let the disappointment over her lack of promotion dampen her usually good spirits. Still, she allowed herself a few more minutes by pushing the snooze button 2 more times.

The weather was in accordance with her mood - ominous grey skies and a light drizzle. Although it was already the end of April, spring was playing hard to get this year. So she put on one of her brighter pink dresses as a middle finger both to the forecast and her mood.

As soon as she arrived to work she called her friend Caitlin, she knew she could count on her to always lend a sympathetic ear. They had met years ago in Cambridge when Felicity was at MIT and Caitlin was a pediatric med student at Harvard. She was now an intern at Starling General.

"What about a girl's night on Saturday? Table Salt, then ditching the calories at Verdant. How does that sound?" Caitlin offered in her usual smooth voice, the one that made her very popular with her little patients.

Felicity sighed. "Since I didn't get the promotion I don't think I can afford Table Salt...so how about Big Belly Burger and Verdant?"

Caitlin chuckled softly. "It's a date.".

After a few more minutes of small talk Felicity hung up with a smile on her face. At least her weekend sounded promising now.

* * *

The silence in the office made Felicity raise her head from her computer.

The office was empty. Everybody had left.

Glancing at the clock on her computer, Felicity understood why. It was well past six in the evening and once again she had been so absorbed in her work she hadn't paid attention to the time. And none of her colleague had deemed necessary to let her know, apparently.

She stretched her aching neck before turning off her computer, grabbing her purse and coat, groaning as a sudden fatigue seeped through her bones and muscles. A hot bath was definitely in order.

As she was walking towards the elevator she ran into Henry Diggle, QC's head of security.

"You work too much, Felicity," he greeted her with a teasing smile.

"Look who's talking. You're still here too," she replied with an affectionate look.

Henry had been one of the first people she'd met when she started at the company 3 years ago. He had been so kind and welcoming, making sure she got everything she needed and knew her way around during her first few weeks. He was a handsome man in his forties, married with two kids.

"Did you hear the news?" He asked as she pressed the button to call the elevator.

"What?"

"Oliver Queen is dead."

There was a brief moment of confusion because she placed the name. "Oh! Thea Queen's brother, right? He was still alive? How old was he?"

"At least 97 or 98."

"Wow. Did you know him?"

"I met him a few times. He was rather reclusive, especially these last few years. He's the one who got me this job twelve years ago, actually. My grandfather and him were close friends."

Felicity nodded. She couldn't say that the news particularly affected her, since she had never met Oliver Queen, had barely even heard of him.

"I'm on my way to see Mr Harper," Henry told her. "They're doing a small commemoration tomorrow at lunch time. I'll see you there?"

"Sure! Have a good evening, Henry."

When she arrived home she shed her clothes and deciding a bath would take too long, stayed a good ten minutes under the hot spray of the shower, letting the warm water wash off the weariness in her bones.

She wasn't in the mood to cook anything, so she just heated some pizza and settled on her couch in front of the TV with her plate and a glass of wine. Since nothing really held her attention she grabbed her tablet, curious to see if she could find anything interesting about Oliver Queen.

As it turned out, there wasn't much.

She tried Google first but only came up with a few old photos. She couldn't help the little whistle that passed her lips. The man had been gorgeous. There was a picture of him and Thea at a formal event in the fifties wearing a tuxedo, a smile on his handsome face. His strong jaw was covered in a light stubble and his eyes were clear, but since the picture was in black and white she couldn't tell their color.

She wondered why he looked sad.

There was another picture of him leaning against an old car, wearing jeans with his muscular arms crossed over his chest covered in a white t-shirt. Felicity smiled, picturing those old movies with James Dean.

Oliver Queen definitely was movie star material.

Instead, it looked like he had not done much with his life. He had been a war photographer during WW2 and had been discharged a few weeks after D-Day for a serious knee wound.

There was a mention of him working at his sister's company for a few years in the mid-fifties, but no explanation of what he was doing exactly. Then it seemed like he had lived mostly like a recluse in Starling City, and had died peacefully in his sleep a few days ago.

She finished her glass of wine, wondering why she got so melancholic all of a sudden.

He seemed to have lived a sad and lonely life. How come he had never married? The Queens had been a good, wealthy family. He was moving in circles where he should have met lots of single women.

Unless something had been very wrong with him and he had some hidden, unmentionable flaws. But then his sister would probably not have let him work at Queen Consolidated, right?

She was surprised by a yawn and noticed the time. She had wasted almost an hour and a half researching a guy who was old enough to be her great- grandfather - worse, who was dead.

She turned off her tablet and the TV, put her plate and glass back in the sink and went to bed.

* * *

When she stepped into the elevator the next morning, she found none other than her CEO, Jonas Harper.

"Good morning, Miss Smoak," he greeted her with a smile.

He didn't know all of his employees by their name, but she had helped him a few times with computer issues and they were on rather amicable terms. Not to mention how attractive he was, although that was rather forbidden territory. Inter office relationships were frowned upon, so an IT girl dating the CEO would be a big no-no.

"Sorry about the missed promotion." he said, surprising her. She didn't even know he knew about it. "I know there's an interesting spot in Applied Sciences that will be available soon and would be perfect for you. It's not open yet, but it's a matter of days...keep an eye on it."

"I will. Thank you for the heads up."

"And we never had this conversation, of course."

She smiled and blushed. She didn't want to read too much in his words, and showing any kind of favoritism towards her could lead to some problematic situations, and Felicity generally avoided office gossip like the plague, so being involved in one of them would be a real nightmare.

She eyed him discreetly, both because he was extremely pleasant to look at, and because it struck her how much he bore a striking resemblance to his great uncle.

Which reminded her…

"Oh, Mr Diggle told me the news. I'm sorry for your loss."

He smiled softly. "Thank you. I didn't see him much over the last year, he was mostly keeping to himself, especially since my grandmother died...He lived like a recluse," Jonas said, echoing Henry's words from the night before.

"He must have had a lonely life," Felicity said, even though she didn't want to pry. . She couldn't exactly tell him that she had figured that out by the extensive research she had done online the night before.

Jonas leaned against the rail. "My grandmother told me once that there had been a woman but for some reason it didn't last. One day she was there, the next moment she was gone. Apparently he never got over it."

Something tugged at Felicity's heart upon hearing these words. Oliver Queen's life seemed even more sad than she had thought.

The ping of the elevator alerted her that she had arrived at her floor.

"I'll see you at the commemoration. Good day, Mr Harper."

He gave her a warm smile. "You too, Felicity."

She walked to her cubicle, lost in thought, wondering why, since yesterday, the death and apparent lonesome life of a complete stranger could put such a damper on her spirits.

Felicity was about to take her lunch break (after a little detour via the commemoration) when her phone rang. The little blinking light on the left indicated it was an external call and she frowned. Most of the calls she received came from within the company, except for Caitlin. And she didn't recognize the number as one belonging to her friend.

"Felicity Smoak."

"Good morning, Miss Smoak. I'm calling you on behalf of the Steele & Palmer Attorneys office. Mr Steele would like to set up an appointment with you at your earliest convenience."

Se raised her eyebrow. An Attorney's office?

"Yes...What is this about ?"

"An inheritance, Miss. I can't say more over the phone, I'm sorry."

Before she could utter another 'what' and sound really rude, or stupid, she cleared her throat.

"I...yes, ok. Is he available tomorrow afternoon?"

They settled on a time and Felicity calculated she would have to leave work a bit earlier to be on time, but she was too curious to have it rescheduled at a further date.

She stared pensively at her phone before her stomach grumbled, reminding her of her initial plans. An inheritance ? She giggled and let herself daydream about the inheritance could be. Maybe she had a long lost great uncle who had left her a few million dollars. Not that it was going to happen, but if it _did_ , she would leave QC and start her own business. But with her luck, it was probably some decrepit piece of furniture or a stamp collection she would have no use for.

* * *

Felicity put her hand on her leg for the umpteenth time to stop the nervous jitter. She was sitting in Mr Steele's waiting room, and there wasn't even a decent gossip magazine to pass the time.

Since the call the day before, she had been digging her brain to try and figure out who on earth had left her an inheritance. Both her parents were dead. They were both only children, so no aunt, uncle or cousin. Unless they were far removed, but then she had no idea who they were, how they would know of her existence and most of all why she would have been put on their will.

This was a true mystery, and she couldn't wait to find out.

The door to Mr Steele's office opened, signaling the end of her wait. After introducing himself, the attorney offered her a comfortable chair as well as some refreshments. He was a man in his early fifties, rather handsome, with a charming british accent.

He sat behind his big mahogany desk, opened an envelope and pulled out some documents.

"You must be wondering why you're here," he started with a kind smile. "Since you work at Queen Consolidated, you must be aware that Oliver Queen passed away a few days ago."

She narrowed her eyes. "I am, yes. But I never met him."

"Nevertheless, Oliver Queen has included you in his will."

She blinked. _What?_ "I'm sorry...what?"

"He has left you his house."

"His house? But...I don't…" She chuckled incredulously. "This makes no sense. As I said, I've never met Oliver Queen, not even once."

Walter Steele made a helpless gesture . "I'm afraid I'm not privy to the reasons of this legacy. There is an envelope addressed to you which might explain his motive," he informed her, showing her an envelope with her name elegantly written on it. "The house is on the borders of the Glades, on the corner of Arrow Street and 6th Avenue."

Felicity winced at the location. Not exactly the finest neighborhood in Starling City.

"It's in good condition, both outside and inside. It hasn't been occupied for a little more than two years though, when Mr Queen had to be moved to a retirement home."

He went on to explain a few more legalities and in the end handed her the envelope.

"Here is a copy of the documents, as well as the keys. I suggest you go visit the house. If you wish to keep it, call my assistant to make another appointment to sign all the legal documents. If you don't, the house will go back to the heirs."

"Does the Queen family, or the Harpers know about it?"

"No. Mr Queen insisted on it being anonymous. They were told it was given away for charity."

Felicity felt a bit better at that. She couldn't imagine crossing paths with Jonas Harper at Queen Consolidated and having to explain why his great uncle had left her his house. Especially since it was still a puzzling thought to her as well.

She took the envelope and left the office in a bit of a daze. She walked back to her car with a million questions wandering her brain. The biggest one, of course, being.. _.why?_

She sat in her car and dropped her key in her lap. She opened the envelope, hoping for at least a semblance of an explanation. She took the documents out, finding a smaller envelope with her name on it.

If she had expected a long letter, she was disappointed. Instead, it was just a single sentence.

 _Please come back._

 _O._

A rush of air escaped her throat and she gasped. A shiver ran down her spine as a strong feeling of deja vu struck her. Unfortunately, it went as fast as it came and she was just left with a frustrating, empty void.

First she needed to go home, take a nice hot shower, and then try to make sense of what was happening. Her hands shook and it took her two attempts to put the key in the ignition, so she leaned back against her seat and took a deep breath. Only when she felt a bit calmer did she start the car and pulled away.

It was too late to go see the house now, especially in such an unsavory part of town. But she would go tomorrow. Hopefully she would find some answers there.

* * *

The dark grey sky looked rather ominous, and really didn't help to make the neighborhood look welcoming, quite the contrary. It must have been a nice residential area a few years ago, but now it was just a bunch of decrepit buildings and vacant lots, barely protected by fences.

Definitely not the kind of place you would want to hang out for longer than strictly necessary, so Felicity wondered why she was still sitting in her car in front of Oliver Queen's house - the reason she was here in the first place. She couldn't call it her house yet, and it wasn't anyway, not as long as she hadn't signed the legal documents. And her first impression tended to make her think that would never happen.

Especially since the 'house' _was actually a freakin' Victorian mansion_ , with a small tower, and everything. The faded red color of the facade must have been a deep burgundy at some point, and there was a porch surrounding half the house. The garden in front of it had been clearly abandoned for years. Walter Steele had been a bit optimistic when saying it was in good condition. While it didn't look like it was going to fall apart any minute, it still gave a creepy haunted house impression.

She should just pull away and go home and forget about all this nonsense.

And yet she didn't. She got out of her car, opened the little gate surrounding the garden and walked to the porch. A broken swing was hanging on by only one chain, and the view filled her with a painful nostalgia. But she had never been here before, so how come she was overwhelmed with all those familiar feelings?

She walked unhurriedly, trying to sort out and make sense of the emotions. She put the key in the lock and opened the front door.

A musty smell invaded her nostrils as she walked into the foyer, closing the door slowly behind her. She locked it just in case.

She was in the main hall, facing a staircase. On her left was the doorway to a big living room, where the sparse furniture was covered by sheets.

She looked up towards the staircase, noticing the lighter square shapes in the wall betraying the former presence of frames or pictures.

" _It beats photographing dead bodies."_

Instead of freaking her out, the male voice in her head soothed her. There was a sudden and clear certainty invading her heart and mind.

 _I've been here before. I belong here._

She just knew it, same as she was sure the color of the couch covered by a yellowish sheet used to be a deep forest green. With a trembling hand, she raised the sheet and let out a shaky exhale upon seeing the faded green color.

How did she know this? How did she know that the door on the other side of the hall led to the kitchen? She walked towards it, and a half-incredulous, half-frightened laugh passed her lips when she opened the door. It was indeed a huge, beautiful kitchen with an island and a mantel under which a big, antiquated stove stood.

The calm she had felt a few minutes ago disappeared, replaced with a growing feverishness.

Her heart hammering in her chest, she slowly started to climb the stairs leading to the first floor. That's where the bedroom and bathroom were. But that's a logical thing to know, right? It was the usual layout of a house. Nothing surprising there.

The upstairs floor was as dark and gloomy as the ground floor. A half-open door gave her a glimpse into the master bedroom with its double bed, covered by a sheet, as was the rest of the furniture. Felicity stayed in the threshold, a hand on her stomach.

" _This was the best 4th of July in a very, very long time."_

She let out a squeak and turned around, as if someone was whispering in her ear with a husky, seductive voice. She stumbled back, overwhelmed by memories, except there was no image in her head. More of a myriad of sensations, a warm feeling at the pit of her stomach, a comforting familiarity.

Happiness. Love. Anguish. Loss.

The tears surprised her, as well as the acute pain piercing her heart. She closed her eyes for a minute, waiting for it to pass. Her every instinct told her to leave, but a stronger feeling made her stay.

There was a reason she was here. And she had to find out.

Continuing her exploration, she climbed another set of stairs, the one leading to the attic. There were actually two rooms and Felicity assumed this must have been the chambermaid's room at the beginning of the century. But now one was empty; so she walked into the other one.

The oddest thing in the room was a big mirror resting against the wall. It was not covered like the rest of the furniture. It had a white, intricated frame, and intact, even if the mirror was a bit dusty.

" _This thing is killing you, Felicity!"_

There was the voice again. And her name. And that tone...full of anger and despair. She shivered, assaulted again by these pictureless memories, of a less pleasant nature this time.

Against the wall under the skylight window she noticed two trunks. Curiosity got the best of her, and she kneeled in front of the first one. With a slightly trembling hand, she lifted the lid. A few boxes and envelopes were piled, each of them labeled with names she remembered from some of her history classes when they were studying the second World War.

Pearl Harbor. Bastogne. Le Havre. Omaha Beach. And a few other she had never heard of.

She took the Pearl Harbor one and opened it, finding a stack of pictures in it. There was some group photos, of young smiling men posing together on the beach, or next to a plane, or inside what seemed to be a military mess. There were a few pictures of women, some of them nurses, other secretaries or military employees.

One of the photographs featured 5 young soldiers and she recognized Oliver Queen amongst them. Turning the photo around, she read, "John, Roy, Adrian, Quentin. December 2, 1941."

Just a few days before the attack then. With a knot in her stomach, she wondered how many of them, besides Oliver, had survived.

A few of the pictures had been taken after the attack, and some of them were seriously gruesome, so she put them back.

Another envelope was labeled Omaha Beach, June 6 1944, but she wasn't sure she wanted to see that right now, so she closed the lid. It was a shame though that these pictures were forgotten in this trunk and not out there for people to see. It was a testament of history, and as far as she knew, Oliver had never published anything, although the magazine he was working for back then might have done it. She made a mental note to do some more digging online about it.

She crouched and opened the second trunk, expecting to find pictures of the same kind but smiled when she saw the labels. These were obviously of more mundane events as well as family photos.

 _Queen Metropolitan Gala, 1946. Thea's birthday, 1951. 4th of July, 1948._

She picked up that one and let out a little sigh. It was Oliver with one of the guys from the Pearl Harbor picture, meaning at least one of them had survived. The back of the photo read 'John, Oliver, July 4 1948'

The next one was the same guy - John - with a pretty brunette nestled against his broad chest. Felicity couldn't blame her. John seemed like a pretty good hugger. The back of the photo identified her as Lyla.

She skimmed through the rest of the pictures of what seemed to be a barbeque amongst friends, 1940's style. Felicity was happy to see Oliver hadn't lived exclusively as a hermit after the war, he'd had friends and did ordinary activities with people who obviously meant the world to him. She browsed through the rest of the pictures before one grabbed her attention.

 _Woah. Wait...What?_

"That's impossible," she muttered as she squinted at the photo.

Oliver Queen was in the photo she held along with a woman. And that woman was her.

She stiffened, her breath hitching in her throat. Her heart started galloping in her chest, and even though she knew the gesture was ridiculous, she rubbed her eyes. Because this photo could not exist.

She...no, not she, the woman who looked like her exact clone….was smiling brightly at the camera, dressed in a romper in a red vichy print. Oliver had his arm around her shoulders and was looking at her with such a loving, intimate look that she almost felt like a a trembling hand, she turned the picture around.

 _Felicity, Oliver. July 4 1948._

Her legs wobbled and she sat on the wooden floor, not caring about the transfer of dust onto her clothes.

There had to be an explanation , right? This couldn't be either of her grandmothers, because she had seen pictures of them when they were younger and even if there was definitely a family resemblance, they were not an exact carbon copy of herself. And none of them had sisters, so it could not be a great aunt either. So the only - totally illogical, crazy - explanation was Oliver Queen had known a woman named Felicity 70 years ago who happened to look exactly like her. Which is why he had left her the house, in memory of that woman.

Except that scenario had more plotholes than some of the worst TV shows she had seen. It made absolutely no sense.

She put the pictures back in the trunk. What the frak was going on here ? She put her head in her hands, closing her eyes and trying to put some order to her thoughts.

That's when she heard it. The music. A very old tune she had heard it in a movie once, it was a Billie Holliday song.

She grabbed her bag, searching for the pepper spray she kept inside. She was positive she had locked the front door, and she doubted that a potential thug would break in and casually listen to that kind of music. Also, the living room downstairs was devoid of most of its furniture except for the couch and a table, and she had not noticed any old record player, or whatever it was called back then. A gramophone?

She looked at the skylight window. It must be coming from outside. But where ? She tilted her head, listening carefully.

The music was coming from the mirror.

She stood up and grabbed her bag, feeling scared for the first time since entering the house. She was going to go home, take a nice hot bath with a big glass of wine and forget all about this weird house and the disturbing feelings it evoked in her and her possibly having a clone in the 1940's. Tomorrow she would send back the papers to the lawyer with a 'No, thank you,' note. She really did not need this crap in her life right now.

But an impulse made her walk towards the mirror, wanting to make sure she was not mistaken.

Which she hoped she was. Maybe the music was in her head too, like the voice. Even if it made her look deranged, anything was preferable to the almost paranormal vibe she'd gotten since she walked into the house.

She leaned slightly toward it, putting her hand on the surface.

Then everything went black.

* * *

She regained consciousness with a groan, bringing a hand to her pounding head. What had happened? Had someone struck her from behind ?

"Ow," She moaned as she pulled herself into a sitting position. Her vision was a little blurry, but she noticed quickly her handbag was missing. Had the music been a distraction to rob her, leaving her with a nice headache in the process? She had been stupidly ambushed.

With a sigh she got back on her feet, fighting a bout of nausea. She touched the back of her neck but felt no bulge or pain.

Weird.

Then she noticed her surroundings. The mirror was still there. But the trunks were gone. Instead there was a few things she was pretty sure had not been there a few minutes ago. An old bird cage. Two chairs without upholstery. An empty bin. And many boxes, all with various photographic material like tripods, films and cameras, although old fashioned ones.

Also, there was no skylight window.

 _The freaking skylight window had vanished._

She let out a laugh which turned into a sob. Why, _why_ was this happening to her? Was it an elaborate prank? Who would do something like this?

"What are you doing here?"

She let out a little shriek at the sudden appearance of a man at the threshold. A tall, well built man, wearing black slacks and a white shirt with the sleeves rolled up his muscular arms. Watching her with a scowl on his face.

The first thing that registered with her, though, was that man...was Oliver Queen. He didn't look one day over 30. And he was looking at her with a scowl on his face.

"Wait, you're not supposed to be here? How…What..." she stuttered, still fighting dizziness.

"I'm not supposed to be here? Young lady, this is my house. You, on the other hand, are trespassing." The tone was not pleasant, bordering on threatening. But that voice...that exact same voice that had been whispering in her head only a few minutes ago.

"No, no, no, this is impossible. You're supposed to be old, and...dead!"

This was turning into a nightmare. Surely she was dreaming, right? She was actually still passed out on the floor and was having the weirdest dream of her entire life. Frantically she pinched her arm, but nothing happened.

Oliver Queen still stood there. Even more so, he seemed to quickly lose patience.

"Alright, you and me are going to have a little chat with the police."

Panic rose in her throat. "No, wait! What...I don't…"She looked around, assessing the completely different state of the attic, the lack of window, the very not dead and young Oliver Queen and the clothes he was wearing. "What year is this?" she whispered, a horrible, sinking feeling invading her chest, making her stomach churn.

Exasperation crossed his face. "1948. I don't see how…"

 _Frak._

That was her last coherent thought before she bent over the empty bin and threw up.


	2. Chapter 2

Oliver Queen's kitchen was amazing. Huge, with an antique stove built-in in a chimney, an island and a wonderful vintage fridge - well, not vintage in 1948, she supposed.

Felicity was well aware a refrigerator was not the thing she should focus on right now. She guessed it was like some sort of coping mechanism, so her mind wouldn't have to entertain the fact she had just travelled through time.

She had crossed over _to another frakkin' century._

Oliver was sitting across her at his kitchen table, looking at her with a patient expression on his face. He seemed a bit more accommodating since she had puked in his bin. She raised the glass of water he had offered her a bit earlier to her lips, wishing for some aspirin to dim her light headache, but she didn't dare ask him right now. Besides, did they have Ibuprofen in 1948?

At least he hadn't alerted the authorities yes, and for that she was grateful.

She cleared her throat. "So, I guess I should start at the beginning"

"That would be my preference."

She wasn't sure, but she thought she saw an imperceptible smile lift the right corner of his lips. It encouraged her to go on.

"Where I come from, you just died...of old age. And I inherited your house. Don't ask me why, I have no clue."

He frowned. "Old age?"

She nodded. "I was told you were in your late 90's."

"Wait, where do you come from?"

She bit her lower lip. Here we go. "I should have said when...and 2017." She straightened her shoulders, waiting for him to start laughing, roll his eyes or finally call the cops. He didn't though. He crossed his arms - and wow, the man was obviously working out - and sighed softly.

"How do we know each other in 2017?"

"That's the thing. We don't. I've never met you in my life. Until today."

"But why would I leave you my house then?"

"Like I said, I have no clue. But the time travelling mirror in your attic might be a first clue."

"Ok, go on."

"At first, I wasn't going to take it but I thought I should at least look at it, you know? So while I was exploring the house, I went to the attic and found two trunks filled with pictures. Most of them were from your time in the war, and the rest were of friends and family. And there was this woman, who looked exactly like me, on one of those pictures. It freaked me out and I wanted to leave but then I heard the music and thought it came from the mirror - which, as it turned out, I was right - so I put my hand on it and ...here I am."

She cringed slightly at how her explanation sounded more like a babble bordering on hysterical, but hey, if she had one good reason to be hysterical in her life, it was probably this one.

"So you travelled, through the mirror, from 2017." His tone was measured and curious, and less incredulous than it could legitimately be.

"I know how it sounds. I wouldn't believe me either, I just...This whole situation is crazy and I don't know why it's happening to me."

She put her head in her hand, the pounding becoming more pronounced, and she massaged her forehead.

Oliver uncrossed his arms and leaned forward, putting them on the table. "The thing is, you did appear from nowhere." He pointed the kitchen door which led to the back of the property. "That door is locked, and the only other access to the house is the front door. I've been in the living room for the last few hours, with a clear view on the front door and stairs. So unless you climbed the facade all the way to the attic…" he said with a dubious look at her pencil skirt and high heels. "Let's just say I'm willing to give you the benefit of the doubt, even if it goes against my best judgment."

Relief washed over her as her shoulders slumped and a shaky laugh escaped her.

"Thank you. It means a lot you don't think I'm crazy, or a robber, or an alien. And I don't know why you would think I'm an alien, but I'm not. I promise."

"There were rumors of an alien sighting in New Mexico last year though." He deadpanned.

"Oh, you mean Roswell, right? That was a scam, actually. There's no alien in 2017 either, except on TV."

"What's a TV?"

She remained speechless for a minute and he smiled. Which, considering how gorgeous it was, certainly didn't contribute in giving her back her ability to speak. "I'm messing with you. They sell televisions at the hardware store in town."

She laughed, although it sounded more like a sob. The whole ordeal was starting to take its toll on her.

She was still curious about something though. "What day it is?"

He turned and checked the calendar on the wall. "Monday, April 21."

"Ok, it's the same date, just not the same day. It's Friday in 2017. Which reminds me, I'm supposed to meet Caitlin for dinner...or is it tomorrow ?" she sighed, pressing her nose between her fingers, trying to get a coherent thought and failing.

Oliver looked at her dubiously. "I think right now you need to get some rest. No offense but you look pale, and well...not so good."

Felicity was about to argue, she needed to get home and the sooner the better but her head hurt so badly she could hardly form a thought and finally she nodded. "A nap does sound rather nice right now. But just an hour or so. I have to go back after that."

He brought her to one of the rooms upstairs. The difference in the house now compared to her earlier visit was astounding. The ground was covered in a rich, light brown, hardwood floor, and the walls were a deep forest green, giving the atmosphere a warm look. The bedroom he led her into looked cozy and comfortable with corner windows looking down on the garden and a big bed just waiting for her to lay down on it.

He left for a couple of minutes before coming back with a t-shirt. "Here. We'll talk more when you wake up."

Her head hurt so badly all she could manage was a weak 'Thank you' before sitting on the bed to change, not even noticing him leaving the bedroom and closing the door behind him.

She slid between the fresh sheets, vaguely aware she was about to fall asleep in the house of a complete stranger she knew nothing about, in another time period. She closed her eyes, a lingering though insisted maybe he had been a bit too fast in believing her.

Oliver Queen was a good man though. She didn't know how but...she just knew.

She fell asleep.

* * *

When Felicity woke up she felt completely refreshed. She got out of bed and walked into the adjoining bathroom - which was terribly old-fashioned, pink everywhere, she loved it - to freshen up. With a grimace she put her skirt back on, but kept Oliver's t-shirt. She didn't feel like wearing the crumpled shirt she had already worn at work all day yesterday.

Barefoot, she followed the smell of bacon all the way to the kitchen. She found Oliver preparing what seemed to be a gargantuan breakfast. There was already a stack of pancakes on the table, and a jar of maple syrup and he was putting scrambled eggs and bacon on a dish.

Wait...breakfast? How long had she been out?

"Hey," he greeted her as she walked in. "I was about to come and get you. Feeling better?"

"Much," she said, silently admiring how his black t-shirt fitted the muscles of his upper body. Reality reminded itself to her as her stomach growled at the display on the table, probably because it had been empty for a few hours.

"What time is it?"

"8 am. You slept 14 hours. Time travel is exhausting, apparently."

She wasn't sure if he meant it or if there was a part of him that still doubted her story and made fun of her. To be completely honest, the second version was better. It still weirded her out a little he had so readily accepted her explanation.

She sat at the table as he put the dish with the eggs and bacon in front of her before pouring her a freshly squeezed orange juice.

"Help yourself," he said, gesturing to the food and she noticed there were waffles too.

She chuckled. "I guess cholesterol is not a thing in 1948, then. Ah, what the heck. I'm starving, and this looks amazing. You did all this ?"

He nodded, filling his own plate generously. "I love cooking. My friend John owns a diner and I go help him sometimes."

She remembered the name from several of the pictures. The handsome black guy holding the pretty brunette.

"Lyla," he said, and she realized she had said that out loud. "How do you know?"

"I saw pictures of them...in one of the trunks in your attic. From a 4th of July hasn't happened yet."

"Didn't you say there was someone looking like you on those pictures?"

She chuckled. "Not someone looking like me. A perfect carbon copy, down to the name."

"The 4th of July is in 2 months, and I don't know any girl who looks like you, named Felicity. So it must have been you on those pictures."

She shrugged. "That would explain the note, actually. In the document the lawyer gave me, there was a note. It said, 'Please come back', signed with just an 'O'."

He finished his orange juice and looked at her pensively. "So you were here before, but then you weren't and I left you my house asking you to come back, but no other explanation?"

"I know, the more we talk about it, the more insane it sounds, but everything about this situation is insane. Oh my God, I'm Claire Randall. This is my own twisted version of Outlander, sadly without any kilts."

He gave her a blank look. "I didn't understand a single word of what you just said."

She shook her head. "Never mind. I don't want you to think I'm even more crazy."

He smiled. "I don't think you're crazy. You would not be here eating my world renowned pancakes if I did."

"Thank you. For not kicking me out. Or calling the police. Wait, world renowned?"

"Hey, I believe your time travel story, the least you can do is trust me on this."

She grinned. Everything she had read hadn't prepare her for his sense of humor, and it was incredibly charming. It made her wonder once again why and how he had ended up living the solitary, sad life he had.

"Felicity…" he said her name for the first time and she shivered, loving the way the syllables rolled on his tongue. "The question is...why would I ask you to come back? If you were here before, what happened between us that would compel me to leave you my house hoping you would hypothetically travel back in time to find me?"

She blushed. Stupidly, she had not envisioned things that way. Since she had heard about him from Henry she had always envisioned him as an old man, even after seeing the pictures on Google. Of all the reasons why he had left her his house, she didn't imagine for one second it could be anything romantic.

She gave him a knowing look. "I don't think you're the kind of guy who falls for my type."

"What type is that?"

"Nerdy?"

He raised an eyebrow.

"Right. Too modern a word, I guess." She shrugged. "I don't really have a 1948 version of it."

"Felicity, first, I don't have a type. And second, I think you're beautiful."

She pictured herself with the crumpled shirt she had slept in, her hair a mess and make-up probably smudged on her face. She didn't believe him for a minute, even if it was nice to hear.

She held his gaze for a minute, but he was giving her a rather intense look and heat creeped up her cheeks. She wriggled on her chair, feeling both slightly excited and a bit uncomfortable and not quite sure why. "Anyway, I should probably get back to...go back home."

"Already? Without even seeing 1948?" He leaned forward and there was hint of something she might have recognized if she knew him better, it looked like humor but was...warmer, she decided. "Aren't you just a tiny bit curious?"

Of course she was curious. And if she was being totally honest, she didn't really want to leave immediately. Staying a bit longer in Oliver's company definitely had its appeal, despite the contradictory sentiments he was eliciting in her.

She was weak. She caved. "What do you have in mind?"

He looked out the window. "It's sunny and warm. There's a park nearby, we could go for a walk, get some fresh air. I stayed inside all day yesterday so it'd be good to stretch my legs."

"Ok, but I can't go out like this," she said, gesturing to her clothes.

He shrugged like it wasn't a big deal. "My sister always leaves some clothes here, and you seem to be roughly the same size. Actually, the room you slept in is hers. I'll show you."

As they climbed the stairs, Felicity lingered on the pictures hanging on the wall. Some were his family and friends, a few landscapes, and one was of little kids playing at what seemed to be a family gathering.

She turned to him, "Did you take these?"

The admiration in her voice seemed to please him and he nodded. "I was a photographer during...a few years ago. I do weddings, anniversaries, things like that now.. It pays the bill. And it beats photographing dead bodies."

His words were a perfect echo of what she had heard when she had been climbing these stairs in the future, or was it the present?. How could she know he would say that to her? She paled slightly at the implications and he misread her reaction. "Sorry. That was a very inappropriate thing to say."

She put her hand on his biceps, the touch so instinctual she didn't think about it crossing any sort of 1940s lines. "No, it's...don't worry. And these pictures are beautiful. You're very talented, no matter the subject."

She was a step above him so they were eye to eye. He smiled, and for a minute she lost herself in those blue pools before remembering they were in the middle of the stairs. Not that he seemed to mind, with the way he was looking at her. Again.

His question from earlier in the kitchen, about why he had asked her to come back in his will, resonated in her head and she turned around. Climbing the remaining steps a bit quicker than necessary,. Despite the fact she had met this man not even 24 hours before but she couldn't deny there was something… a connection between them, and she suspected he was feeling the same way.

Ok, but she had to stop thinking she was Claire Randall or this was some alternate version of 'Somewhere in Time.. Oliver looked nothing like Jane Seymour, so time traveling romance was not happening. This was not a TV show, or a movie, and she was too reasonable to entertain that kind of idea, no matter what some clone, alternate version of herself or whatever had done with Oliver Queen.

He showed her where to find the clothes and she opened the closet, hoping Thea Queen would not mind too much. Felicity chose capris in a cute vichy blue pattern and a matching blue sleeveless shirt. Luckily, she and Oliver's sister shared a shoe size as well so she completed the outfit with cute flats.

After she'd dressed she found Oliver sitting on the coffee table in the living room, waiting for her. He'd changed as well and was now wearing black slacks and a green polo shirt. He was definitely giving off a Cary Grant vibe, and at the same time he would have blended right in during 2017. She decided to focus on the fact she was going for a stroll with a gorgeous man and pushed all other thoughts of time travel aside.

But when she walked out of the house, the reality of her situation smacked her right back in the face.

Like the interior of the house, the exterior was a millions miles away from what she had seen the day before. No more abandoned buildings, no more empty lots filled with trash or tagged walls. Instead, it was a lovely neighborhood with rather impressive homes - none as impressive as Oliver's, but still beautiful - with flowery gardens and trees all along the street. The blue sky and sunny light only helped make the scenery all the more idyllic.

Seriously, this was like being in Pleasantville. Or at least the end of the movie, with all the colors.

Oliver greeted one of his neighbours on the other side of the street before leading her to a beautiful vintage car. Thanks to an ex-boyfriend who had been passionate about it, she knew enough about old cars to recognize an Auburn. And if it wasn't exactly vintage in 1948, it was still dated since they had stopped production in 1937.

"Woah," she whispered as he opened the door on the passenger side. She admired the shiny blue metallic color before climbing in almost reverently, admiring the shiny aluminium dashboard and brushing her hand over the rich cream colored leather of the seats.

"Do you want me to put the roof back on ?" he offered.

"No! It's perfect."

He sat behind the wheel, putting the key into the ignition.

"Huh. No seatbelts." Felicity noticed, looking at the seat behind her right shoulder before noting the bench seat which left no separation between her and Oliver.

He raised an eyebrow. "No what?"

"Never mind. Come on James Dean, let's go."

Oliver opened his mouth but seemed to think better of it and started the car with a low chuckle. After driving for a few minutes he asked, "Is there anywhere you want to go?"

She looked around her, at a loss. "I don't recognise anything."

Which was not surprising considering she never came to this part of Star City, otherwise known as the Glades. But apparently, 70 years ago the Glades had been a fancy neighborhood with lovely homes, well kept gardens and children playing. She wondered what had happened to turn it around so badly. She would look it up when she got home. And speaking of...

"Can you go to 6th Avenue? At the crossroad with Cisco Lane...if that's how they are named now."

He nodded. "I know where 6th Avenue is, not sure about the other one. What's there?"

"My apartment. Well, it's certainly not there yet, I'm just curious to see what it looks like."

The traffic was obviously not as bad in the 1940's and they made it in ten minutes. Felicity was sure it would have taken her at least 25 in 2017. Hopefully she'll be able to test it if she gets back.

 _When_ , she corrected. When she gets back.

Oliver drove down 6th Ave and she guided him where she could, recognizing landmarks till they got to the place she would someday call home.

She was not prepared for what she found, though. The only thing that allowed her to recognize her street was the little church on the corner, which was still there in 2017. But aside from that, nothing was the same. Her street in her time period was a row of townhouses and buildings, a few shops, and a lame 'green spot' composed of a dying tree and a bench.

There was none of that now. Besides a few houses, it was mostly a giant green space with trees, bushes, flowers and even a lake. Or well, a big pond. A few people were walking their dogs. It was truly a bucolic setting and she felt sad things hadn't stayed that way.

It would be so nice to have a place like this to unwind after a day at work. Or run in the morning. If she was the sportive kind. Which she wasn't.

That's when it struck her, how far away she was from home. Especially now, as she stood in the street where she had lived for the past few years. Except this wasn't 'her' street. She didn't live here yet, she had no home. No family, no friends. Nothing.

The enormity of what had happened to her over the last few hours washed through her like a tidal wave and she gasped softly, panic invading her lungs. She kept talking about checking things when she got back, but what if she couldn't? What if she wasn't able to go back in her own time?

"Are you ok?"

Oliver's hand slid along the back of the seat behind her shoulders. He wasn't touching her but it still felt comforting. Somehow he had sensed her brief moment of distress and that helped settled her.

Discarding her thoughts, she smiled at him. "Yes. Still trying to come to grip with what's happening."

He didn't insist any further, instead looking around to give her a moment to compose herself. "This is a nice place. Want to walk around for a bit?"

"I would love to. This place doesn't exist anymore in 2017," she said wistfully.

Oliver got out and quickly came to open her door before opening the trunk and grabbing a blanket. They didn't walk long before deciding to seat down next to the pond.

"So," Oliver asked as they were comfortably situated. He had also brought a thermos of coffee and a container with fresh fruits which he must have put together while she'd changed. "Can you tell me anything about my future?"

She snorted. "Absolutely not. I mean, I guess I could tell you some very vague, very mundane stuff, but nothing important. Not that I actually could, in fact, since there was not much to find anyway."

His eyes widened. "Wait, you hired a PI to find out about me?"

She laughed. "Not exactly, no. I googled you," she said teasingly, knowing full well it would make no sense to him.

The expression on his face was worth it. "Excuse me?"

She went and tried to explain to him about the internet, wondering again why he was still listening to her and not calling the nut house. She wasn't sure she would have had the patience or understanding if their roles were reversed.

"That sounds...useful," he said, even though she wasn't convinced he believed her. This sounded probably way too sci-fi for him.

"Anyway, when Henry told me about your death, I got curious and tried to know a bit more."

"Who's Henry?"

"Henry Diggle. The head of security at...the company I work for." He didn't need to know it was his family's company, created by his sister.

"Did you say Diggle?"

 _Ah, crap._

"Yes. Apparently his grandfather and you were close friends."

A big grin appeared on Oliver's face. "So I'm guessing it's John's grandson."

She sighed. "See, that's the kind of things you're not supposed to know."

He scoffed. "Well it's not like I'm going to tell him."

"No, but you can't even...suggest the name when he will be born or something."

Oliver huffed out a laugh as he leaned back on his hands and crossed his long legs. "Ok. although I don't see how suggesting a potential name for his grandson could change the course of history."

He kind of had a point, but she was too afraid to change anything to let it pass. "Wait until you hear about the grandfather paradox, and that butterfly in China thing."

The look he gave her made her rethink that idea. One step at a time.

"Ok then. Anything you can tell me about you?"

"Let's see...I'm an IT specialist, as in Information Technology...I work with computers. Everybody has one of those in 2017."

"It's that Google thing."

"It's a small part of it, but yeah...I'm hoping to get a promotion soon. I love my job but it's not very fulfilling right now."

She didn't even know why she was telling him this. She guessed her missed job opportunity from the other day was still weighing a bit on her mind.

"You want more responsibilities?" The question was genuine. There was no mocking incredulity or dismissiveness which she could have expect from a man raised in the 1930's.

Felicity nodded. "Women have a lot of jobs with responsibilities nowadays. Some of them create their own companys."

"Glad to hear it. My sister is still young, but I know she's capable of great things. I always try to support her in anything she does, even though I wasn't there much over the last few years. But I'm making it up to her now. Or trying to anyway."

He was looking away so she couldn't really see his face but the tone of his voice was revealing enough. He had already made a similar comment a bit earlier, clearly avoiding the word. The war was not a subject he was going to broach.

So she was surprised when he turned to her and asked, "Has there been another one? Can you at least tell me that?"

"Another world war? Not like the one you've been through, no...but things aren't exactly peaceful either, far from it."

He nodded and she wondered what was going on through his head. She had seen enough war movies to have a glimpse of the horror it had been, and she was sure it didn't even come close to the reality of it, to what he had experienced. He looked both distraught and angry but she didn't say anything. She didn't exactly know what to say anyway.

"I guess you want to go home?" he asked as he started to stand up, and her heart tightened, understanding the little interlude was over.

She let out a little laugh though, as if he was going to drop her off at her doorstep instead of her moving across time through a mirror. She told him so and he smiled, the lines of tension on his face disappearing and she rejoiced in the fact she had chased away any unpleasant thought from his mind, even for just a moment.

Back at his place she changed quickly into her own clothes, leaving the ones she had borrowed on the bed. Oliver was waiting for her in the attic.

She gestured at the mirror. "If I touch it and nothing happens I'm going to look really ridiculous."

"It's not too late for me to call the police," he teased her.

"Or the asylum."

They shared an awkward laugh, and Felicity realized she was stalling. Whether it was because she indeed was scared of not being able to go back, or she just wanted to remain a bit longer with Oliver, she couldn't decide. Both options were terrifying in their own way.

"So, I'm just going to…"

She walked over to the mirror, taking a deep breath before turning back to him.

"May I come back?"

Oliver frowned. "Not to sound rude or unwelcoming, because believe me it's really not the case...but why ?"

"I want to show you the note you left me. I want to try and understand why you left me your house. Don't you?"

Hesitation crossed his face but then he slowly nodded. "We might never get an answer."

She shrugged. "Maybe not. Then we'll just hang out. We must have had fun the first time if you asked me to come back." And wow, she had really just made that insinuation, despite having decided earlier there was no romantic possibilities between the two of them and she felt her face flush with what was probably an unflattering red.

Oliver smiled, his eyes crinkling and she was mesmerized by the classic beauty of his facial features. His next words only helped to reduce her heart to a blubbering mess.

"I would like to spend more time with you, Felicity."

She was pretty certain she managed to play it cool. "Of course this is assuming it wasn't a one trip thing and I'll be able to come back. And obviously I won't be able to give you a call to warn you, I'll just show up and I don't really like when people do that to me, so...yeah"

He came to her and put his hand on her shoulder. "It's ok Felicity. You'll be fine. You're welcome anytime."

She closed her eyes briefly, feeling strangely settled by his words and his touch, and before she could start thinking again she put her hand on the mirror.

* * *

Oliver stayed in the attic a few more minutes after she...disappeared, his hand in his pockets.

Felicity had been standing there, and the next second...she wasn't.

He had to be honest, a part of him had still doubted her story. That part was still convinced she had been a lunatic - albeit a lovely one - who found a way to sneak into his house then went on drivelling about time travel.

But she had brought such a breath of fresh air, unknowingly chasing away the dark thoughts which were his daily lot with her smile, and he had chosen to ignore his doubts for 24 hours.

Turned out she had told the truth after all.

He had been taken aback by her request to come back, because why would she want to? What could she possibly find in 1948 that she didn't have in 2017 ?

She certainly wasn't coming back for him, right?

 _She doesn't know how damaged you are._

If she knew she would stay safely on her side of the mirror.

And why did he care? He knew nothing about the woman other than they lived 70 years apart, so this whole thing was ridiculous anyway. Once she was back in her century she would realize there was nothing for her here and would go back to her life on a street with no pond and that google thing she apparently worked with.

Still, he left the door of the attic opened.

Just in case.

* * *

It was a curious feeling - in the sense that she hadn't felt anything at all. She had barely blinked and she was back in 2017.

Of course the no feeling thing was just about the crossing over, because as soon as she was back her legs crumpled and she fell down with a painful groan. The headache she had experience yesterday was back with a vengeance. She stayed in her lying position for a few minutes, breathing deeply, fighting nausea.

If throwing up was a side effect of time travelling, it was not cool at all, and there should be a notice coming with all time travelling machines...things.

She turned her head precariously and grabbed her bag, fishing for her phone, checking the date and time. April 22, 2017.

She was home, and time seemed to have passed at the same pace in both period. She had been gone for less than 24 hrs.

She tried to sit down but a wave of dizziness crashed through her and she fell back down with a gasp. She was in no shape to drive, and she didn't plan on lying on the floor for a few more hours in the hopes of getting better. While the house was beautiful and welcoming while Oliver lived there, now it just looked creepy again...even more so, for some reason.

And lifeless.

With a sigh she raised her phone.

"Caitlin? Could you come and get me ? No, I'm fine, I'll explain when you get here. I'll text you the address. And please….bring Ibuprofen."


	3. Chapter 3

"Felicity?"

Felicity raised her head from her slumped position on the couch. "Here."

Despite a splitting headache, she managed to come down and unlock the door for Caitlin before collapsing on the sheet covering the couch, raising a hundreds little particles of dust. She really couldn't care less at that moment.

When Caitlin got there, letting herself inside, she spotted Felicity and rushed to her side, kneeling next to the couch and placing her hand on Felicity's forehead.

"What happened to you? I tried calling you three or four times...What is this place? Are you ok?"

"Please one question at a time," Felicity muttered.

Caitlin pulled out a bottle of water and one of the aspirins from her bag and Felicity took them with a grateful smile.

Caitlin inspected the sheet covering the couch with a dubious look before sitting down.

"No offense, but you look like hell," she said softly, feeling her friend's cheek with the back of her hand. "And I think you're running a slight fever."

"I just need to sleep for a couple of hour and I'll be fine," Felicity slurred. "Can you bring me back home?"

"Of course, but what about your car?"

"I'll take a cab and will get it later tonight."

She sat down, putting her hand on her stomach. It seemed to have settled down a bit, but her head was still pounding. "Let's go. I promise I'll tell you everything later."

Caitlin smiled, even if her eyes betrayed her worry at seeing her friend in this state. "Call me when you wake up, and we'll come get your car back."

Felicity didn't remember the journey back to her apartment, She kept her eyes closed the entire time, trying not to fall asleep which was not an easy feat.

She vaguely recalled Caitlin helping her get inside and to her bedroom where she fell on her bed and into a deep slumber in a matter of minutes.

When she woke up, her alarm clock indicated she had slept the afternoon away, and her stomach was growling. Oliver's copious breakfast was just a vague memory.

"Then again it was 70 years ago," she muttered before getting out of bed with a groan, quickly replaced by a sigh of pleasure once she was under the hot spray of the shower.

Her headache was gone, and the warm water did wonders for her achy muscles.

She put on her pajamas, feeling reinvigorated, and went to the kitchen in search of food and was surprised to find Caitlin sitting on the couch, reading a magazine.

"Hey," Felicity greeted her. "Did you stay here all afternoon?" She sat next to her friend who shook her head.

"Ronnie and I went to get your car, and then I stayed here to prepare some stuff for you to eat," she said, gesturing to a salad bowl on the kitchen counter. I was about to leave but I heard you get up."

"You're the best," Felicity hugged her.

"I know. And now you're going to tell me what you were doing in that house and why you look...jetlagged."

"I guess you can call it that. The jet lag from hell, actually."

Caitlin was waiting with a patient but determined look on her face and Felicity sighed.

"There's no way what I'm about to say is not going to make me look crazy."

Caitlin smirked. "It wouldn't be the first time."

Felicity settled more comfortably on the couch, putting her legs under her. "I'm talking 'blow your mind' crazy. Like…" She mimicked an explosive gesture with her hand and made the appropriate sound with her mouth, and Caitlin's eyebrows raised.

"I'm all ears."

Felicity took a deep breath. Even though she knew her friend wouldn't doubt her word, she was also aware it would take a big leap of faith on Caitlin's part to take her story at face value.

Much as with Oliver, she started at the beginning, and told Caitlin everything, up until the moment she had called her a few hours ago. Once finished she got up and served them both a glass of wine.

"Time travel?" Caitlin finally asked after a moment of silence. She took the glass of wine Felicity handed to her and took a large gulp.

"I will totally understand if you don't believe me." Although she probably would be a bit miffed if a perfect stranger had believed her and her best friend didn't.

"No, I believe you, I do. I just...is there any way this might have been a dream?"

Felicity shook her head vehemently. "No. It was way too elaborate to be a dream. I know it sounds completely insane, but it really did happen."

"And you felt sick both times you...went through?"

"Yes. Well, sick might be a bit of an exaggeration...I just had a headache, and a bit of dizziness, and I felt very tired, but maybe it's normal when you time travel?"

Caitlin tapped her fingernail against the side of her wine glass as she seemed to consider what Felicity had said. "So, tell me about Oliver Queen then."

"He's not what I expected. Not that I expected much because I didn't know him, and I wasn't exactly supposed to meet him, but I don't know, from what I read I assumed he would be some broody, taciturn guy. And he's not. He has a good sense of humor. He's kind. And extremely gorgeous."

Caitlin tilted her head to study her friend. "Why did you thought he would be broody?"

"Because from what I gathered on Google he seemed to have led a sad, lonely life, and the few pics I found proved it. Besides, from what Mr Harper told me, he spent his last few years alone in this big house like a recluse. He implied it had something to do with a woman."

Caitlin mulled on that a little bit before asking, " Did he look like a brokenhearted man to you?"

"Not at all. He spent 3 years in the world war, so he obviously must have some after-effects. He definitely didn't like talking about it, but it had nothing to do with a broken heart."

Caitlin took the note Oliver had left and studied it for a minute before looking her friend in the eye. "Well, I think it's obvious. You're the woman."

Felicity frowned. "What?"

"Felicity, between the two of us, you're supposed to be the bigger genius. You're THE woman. You guys were together, then for some reason it didn't last, and you left - willingly or not - and didn't come back. And he waited all these years for you, waiting for the right moment or opportunity to ask you to come back to him. Like in Somewhere in Time. We don't know exactly how it happens, but who cares? It's incredibly romantic."

"Ok, but in Somewhere in Time Christopher Reeve's character dies at the end, so I'm not digging that comparison too much. Also, if that's true, then...I basically ruined his life?" She didn't like the high-pitched sound of her voice on the last word but the mere idea was truly unsettling.

Caitlin put her hand on Felicity's knee in a comforting gesture. "You don't know that, Felicity. You don't know what happened. And it seems like this is some sort of...a second chance?"

"Second chance at what? I barely know the guy, Caitlin, and did you miss the part where we live 70 years apart?" She had been worried that Caitlin would not believe her, and now it was like she was playing matchmaker?

"Well Keanu and Sandra made it work in the Lake House, but it was only two years."

Felicity rolled her eyes. "Oh, stop it with the movie references. That's generally my thing, and I made them all in my head already."

"Listen, I'm not encouraging you to get involved with him, that would be crazy, obviously. But I know you, and your tendency to analyse and try to understand everything. I'm just trying to find a semblance of an explanation to this insane situation. But to be completely honest, the whole concept is enough to give you an aneurysm. And I'm a doctor, so I know what I'm talking about."

Felicity chuckled and put her hand in front of her eyes. "I don't know what to do," she whined.

Caitlin gave her a knowing look. "You don't?"

"Oh, who am I kidding? Of course I do. I'm going back."

* * *

"I'm not going back."

One of her co-workers, who was passing by her desk, threw her a weird look. Yes, she had said that out loud.

With a sigh Felicity returned her attention back to her computer, trying to focus on her latest batch of emails.

She had spent most of her Sunday in bed, still recuperating from her travelling, which had given her ample time to think and come up with a theory. Ok, her theory found its roots in an old Stargate SG1 episode, but it actually made a bit of sense. And she really wanted to share it with Oliver.

She had signed the ownership papers of the house last night and sent them back to Walter Steele when she had arrived at work this morning. Then she had concentrated on her work, not seeing time pass. When it was lunch time she had grabbed her salad and went to the cafeteria, only then allowing her thoughts to gravitate back to Oliver Queen.

She couldn't help it. Nor could she help the smile blossoming on her face when she remembered the few hours she'd spent with him.

But then, as she was sitting in the cafeteria, surrounded by the familiar noises of cutlery, cell phones and vending machines, doubts started to seep in her mind.

What was she thinking ? She couldn't travel back 70 years every other week. What did she expect to happen anyway? Nothing good could come out of this. And if she believed Caitlin, she - or some other alternate version of herself - had done this before and it had resulted in making Oliver's life miserable.

Once back at her desk, she had made up her mind. Hence the vocal statement and the weird look from her coworker.

That was the reasonable decision to make. Even though 'reasonable' sounded more like 'boring'. It's not like Felicity didn't like to take risk, it had just been so long since she could afford to take one.

She had worked her way through MIT on her own dime, working two jobs and studying her ass off which left little time to let her hair down. Then right after graduation her mom (her only parent left, since her dad had bailed years ago) had been diagnosed with cancer and within five months she was gone. Despite her grief, Felicity had to take care of everything and almost immediately started to look for a job. When she received a request for an interview at Queen Consolidated she just jumped at the chance to leave Vegas, selling the little apartment she had grown up in and taking the first plane to Starling City.

She had built a life here. Granted, her dating life was not super exciting, and besides Caitlin-she was lucky her friend had ended up in Star city with her-she hadn't made a lot of friends here -. But this was mostly her choice, between spending a lot of time at work, and her free time relaxing at home with a good book or a TV show, she hadn't exactly built a thrilling social life, and she was fine with it.

She had never had a long distance relationship, but she could imagine how hard it would be. So what made her entertain the idea of starting one with a 70 year old gap was even remotely good?

And here she was again, considering Oliver Queen again as a romantic prospect. But she had seen that picture of the two of them, the way he looked at her. She'd looked so happy in that photo. And not to sound pretentious, but the chemistry between them had been palpable, both on the picture and when they had met.

He had been so nice, so welcoming despite the crazy circumstances. And those gorgeous blue eyes... She couldn't deny the easy camaraderie which had settle between them almost immediately. She hated to think this man had been miserable his whole life, and even worse, that she could have been responsible somehow.

And on this day, April 23 2017, he was also extremely dead.

With a groan she put her head on her desk, before deciding a cup of coffee would solve all of her problems.

Probably.

As she came out of the kitchenette, she almost bumped into her CEO. She diverted her arm just in time to avoid spilling her precious drink on his crisp, white shirt and striped white and blue tie.

"Good afternoon, Felicity. Nice reflexes," Jonas Harper commented with an impressed smile.

"Good afternoon, Mr Qu...Harper. Mr Harper."

If he noted her little flub, he didn't show it. And even though she felt her cheeks flush, he was kind enough to pretend not to notice it.

Good manners were obviously in the genes of this family. And wow, now that she had met Oliver, the resemblance was even more uncanny. To a disturbing level, considering her train of thoughts for the last couple of hours.

"Is everything ok?" Jonas Harper asked, out of politeness, or maybe it was becoming difficult for him to ignore her strange behavior.

She smiled. "Absolutely. What brings you to the IT department? Do you need help with something?"

"Actually, yes. It's not urgent, but when you have the time could you come by my office and look at my hard drive? There's this weird glitch happening when I open some documents."

"Of course. But you could have just called me. You don't have to come all the way here. Unless you were on your way somewhere else, of course." Way to assume he came just to see you, Felicity.

"I just need to stretch my legs from time to time," he replied with a teasing smile and she wondered...was he flirting with her?

The idea freaked her out so much she took a step back.

"Ok, uh...I'll come by tomorrow morning. I'll just…" she made a vague gesture towards the hall, "...go back to work."

"Of course. See you tomorrow, Felicity," he said warmly.

It's not she was creeped out or anything, quite the contrary. If he had not been her boss, she would have welcomed any sort of interest he might have in her gladly.

But being involved with both the dead great-uncle and the great-nephew was a level of reality show she was pretty sure she couldn't handle.

* * *

She had no idea if that short encounter with Jonas had something to do with it, but by the end of the day she had finally decided to go back and this time she was not changing her mind. Also the weight, which had been heavy on her heart after her decision not to go, lifted suddenly at deciding to go back which made her feel much better about her choice.

She needed to trust her guts on this, and ignore everything which might have happened before.

But going back to spend a few days in 1948 needed some planning. Like requesting a few days off before and after the weekend, which was thankfully granted without question. She didn't have time to talk more to Jonas and try and figure out his intentions since he had been called into a meeting a few minutes after he had showed her the problem on his computer. She had been relieved to be honest. She really didn't feel like dealing with this right now….whatever _this_ was.

Before she did anything else, she called Caitlin, glad she had told her best friend because she couldn't imagine doing this without her.

Then she went to a thrift store and found a lovely 1940's style red dress with matching Mary Jane shoes. She knew it was no use trying to take anything else with her. She was holding her bag the first time and it hadn't followed through. On an impulse, she put on two pair of panties and a second bra on, this way she would have a spare. For the rest, well, she would figure it out.

She also stuck Oliver's note in her bra, as well as an ibuprofen. Hopefully that would stay there and crossover with her.

She had to decide on a return date so Caitlin could be there to get her - it was her friends' idea, and Felicity had protested at first, saying maybe her body would start adjusting and it wouldn't be as bad as the first time.

"And what if it gets worse?" Caitlin had counteracted, and Felicity couldn't argue with that.

She just didn't want to bother her friend, but Caitlin assured her it was for her own peace of mind, so Felicity relented. If Felicity had to be honest, it was comforting to know her friend would be waiting for her.

And now they were standing in the attic again.

Caitlin rubbed her friend's arm comfortingly. "Nervous?"

"A little bit. Oliver told me I was welcomed to come back but I still don't like arriving like this." She gave her friend a pensive look. "I wonder if you could go through?"

"Not sure. But what's a little aneurysm, right?"

Without warning, Caitlin put her hand on the mirror before Felicity could even stop her.

Nothing happened.

Caitlin shrugged and smiled. "There you go. No time travelling romance with Oliver Queen for me."

Felicity slapped her shoulder lightly. "You idiot. Well, that means I'm the Chosen One then. Into every generation, blah blah blah…"

Caitlin gave her a blank look.

"Seriously, Caitlin? This is a serious lack of pop culture knowledge, it's embarrassing."

"Hey, I understood that reference you made about Jamie Fraser and his kilt."

"Because I made you watch Outlander." Felicity glared at the mirror, "Not knowing it would actually become my life."

Caitlin put her hand on Felicity's shoulder and smiled slyly. "Except she travelled through a stone on a beautiful and mysterious Scottish hill, and you do it through an old mirror in a dusty attic."

"Funny. Life is not a TV show, right?"

She hid a small purse behind one of the crates. She had put her phone in it, in case she came back earlier and needed to call Caitlin.

"Ok, I'm ready."

"Wait." Caitlin stopped her and there was now a serious look on her face.

"Please be careful, ok? We might be joking and I have your back, but I'm not convinced the is the best idea you ever had."

Felicity gave her a quick hug. "That makes two of us. But you know what they say…#YOLO?"

Caitlin rolled her eyes and with a laugh, Felicity touched the mirror.

* * *

It took a few minutes to Oliver to realize the sound her had heard coming from upstairs was real and not in his imagination. He was in the living room, sorting through some photos when a thumping sound had resonated throughout the house.

Could it be…?

A smile blossomed on his lips and his heart started to beat a little faster but he quelled the feeling fast. It had been one week. If Felicity had wanted to come back, she would have done so, already, right?

Still, it wouldn't hurt to go and check.

He found her on the floor, unconscious, and he whispered her name as he carefully lifted her in his arms and walked down the stairs to the first floor where he brought her to Thea's room.

"I've got you," he told her softly, as much for his benefits as for hers.

He took off her shoes, smiling at her choice of outfit. 1940' s fashion definitely suited her.

She groaned and he sat beside her on the bed. "How bad is it?" he asked with a commiserate smile.

"Really bad. But I came prepared," she said, and he raised an eyebrow when she put her hand in her cleavage. She took out a small white paper and what looked like medication.

"Ibuprofen," she said, looking rather proud of herself and he chuckled.

"This is almost the 1950's Felicity, not the 1800. We have aspirin too."

She smiled sheepishly, shrugged and winced.

"I'll get you a glass of water."

He was back a few seconds later and he helped her take the little pill by holding her head as she drank. She fell back on her pillow with a sigh, and he knew she was going to fall asleep in a matter of minutes. Crossing through that mirror seemed to really take a toll on her and he couldn't help but wonder if this was going to get better, or worse. He didn't have a good feeling about it, but couldn't say why.

His hand ghosted over her cheek, hesitating before he let his knuckles barely graze the soft skin. He took the small note she was still holding in her hand to put it on the night stand, when he noticed his own handwriting. He took it and left the room, letting her recuperate.

* * *

A soon as she woke up and remembered where she was, Felicity smiled.

Then she also remembered she was still wearing two bras and two panties and she winced. Not the most comfortable attire to sleep in, even though she had slept soundly and didn't seem to have any residue of her coming through.

Maybe Caitlin was wrong and her body would get used to it. That sounded logical after all, right?

She got out of bed, took one set of underwear off before going in search of Oliver. Judging by the faint sound of music coming from downstairs, he was in the living room.

As she walked out of the room, her senses were assaulted by a familiar smell, triggering her olfactive memory with souvenirs that actually didn't really belong to her. Like the first time she had entered the house, she didn't see any images, but was overwhelmed with pleasant, warm feelings glowing in her chest. That recurrent one of belonging being the most prominent of all.

She felt more at home here than in her own apartment, and that thought was both unsettling and disturbing.

She padded barefoot down the stairs, finding Oliver on the couch, apparently sorting through a stack of pictures.

He raised his head at her arrival, smiling as she came to sit beside him.

"Hey. How's the head ?"

"Better." She looked at the pictures - a wedding party - and took one of the groom and bride.

"They make a lovely couple," she commented.

"They are childhood sweethearts. I was with them in high school."

She admired the other photographs. "You know, pictures are in color now."

He chuckled. "I figured it would happen eventually." He gathered the pictures together in a neat pile. "I wasn't sure you would come back."

"I told you I would."

"You asked. And I thought being back in your...time period might make you realize you were better off there."

Felicity sighed. "Well, I'll be honest, I changed my mind several times. First I wanted to come back, then I went to work, thought about it and decided not to. But then I changed my mind again, and planned my trip here with the help of my friend Caitlin. Before I could change my mind...again."

He gave her a fond smile. "You're peculiar."

She shrugged. "You're not the first one to tell me so," before she noticed the note on the table. "What do you think?" she asked, gesturing to the small paper with her chin.

"I think it is indeed my handwriting. And I have a theory."

"Oh, me too. You go first." She settled more comfortably on the couch and his smile grew at her excitement. He looked so amused that she didn't expect his next words.

"I think you died. Or, you know, that other Felicity...she died."

Her mouth fell open. "Oh. Wow. Not sure I can handle so much optimism, to be honest."

He relaxed against the back of the couch, crossing his hands and resting them on his lap. "It's just based on facts. This time travelling is obviously not ideal for your body...you were unconscious when I found you."

"I wasn't," she protested. "I remember you coming in the attic and carrying me downstairs."

"But between the moment you arrived and the one I found you, several minutes passed." She gave him a curious look so he explained. "I heard a noise and it took me a minute to figure out where it came from, that it was you. And you were unconscious between that time."

His face was serious now, a hint of worry in his blue eyes, and Caitlin's words echoed in her mind. Maybe her friend wasn't so wrong after all.

"So you think I crossed over too many times and my body couldn't handle it?"

He raised his hands in a helpless gesture. "It's one theory. And I...that other me asked you to come back. How ? I don't know. Honestly, just thinking about it gives me a headache."

"Or an aneurysm," she laughed softly.

"What is you theory?"

She sat straighter. "It's based on a metaphor called 'Fork in the road'. It means that at some point in your life you make choices, and those choices define how the rest of your life goes. If you made another choice, your life would go a completely different way. And that creates some sort of parallel universe. It's still you, just with a different life with different choices. So maybe there was this universe where I came back in time and we spent time together, and something happened to me, and well, I died or never came back to see you for some reasons. And that created another timeline, the one where I didn't come back and so I'm still here. Until I received your note."

He gave her a blank look. "But that sounds more like history repeating itself, not another timeline created."

She bit her lip. "I know...It sounded more logical in my head."

He shifted in his seat, turning his body toward her, taking her hand in his. His hand was warm and it made her whole arm tingle.

"Felicity...is it really necessary to find a logical explanation to this? Whoever those Oliver and Felicity are, whether from another timeline or past selves...We're not them. Trying to recreate what might have happened, or obsessing on finding the why's and how's actually robs us from our own fate. Let's leave them in the past, or wherever they belong, and create our own path. Our fork in the road," he finished with a teasing smile and she melted a little bit under the softness of his gaze.

"I think that's the more sensical thing I've heard since the first day when this whole thing started."

"How long can you stay?" he inquired, and she didn't want to misinterpret it but there was definitely hope in his voice.

"Four days, including this one."

The answer seemed to satisfy him, and she wondered if he was aware he was still holding her hand. She certainly wasn't going to say anything.

"What do you want to do? Is there anywhere you want to go? My vintage car without seatbelts is at your disposal."

She laughed, elated by his teasing and and the light she saw in his azure eyes.

"To be honest, I need to do some shopping...not much, but enough to be able to change for a couple of days."

He raised from the couch, letting go of her hand briefly. "Let's start with that then."

He held her hand to her and she took it eagerly. Whatever had happened to snuff out that light, she was determined to do everything in her power to prevent it.


	4. Chapter 4

Oliver wanted to take her to one of those fancy boutiques his mom and sister favored, but she categorically refused since she couldn't pay and he would have to foot the bill. So they would go to a department store.

"Do you guys have a Macy's or something like that?"

"Only in New York. We have the Bon Marché."

"That sounds very french so it must be great. Let's go."

To Felicity's delight, they took the Auburn. She'd thought Oliver might own more than one car but apparently not. Before coming this time she'd done more research about Oliver and his family . His father was a banker which meant Oliver's family were already millionaires before Thea Queen created the company and made them billionaires.

As they drove Felicity couldn't help but compare the now to the future. The center of town looked a bit more familiar to Felicity, she even recognized some of the buildings and surroundings. It wasn't as busy busy as it was during her time so and finding a parking spot was easy.

Oliver led her to a big department store which she actually knew rather well : in 2017 it was indeed a Macy's and she'd been here two weeks ago to buy a new pair of jeans. The difference was that was in 2017 the area was a big shopping avenue with multiple stores next to each other, while in 1948 it was surrounded by a handful of restaurants and a small park. Which was a Starbuck in 2017. Why did they have to get rid of all the green spaces in town?

Once inside, the store was bustling with activity, and Felicity felt Oliver's hand softly brushing her lower back. She turned to him with a smile, but it faded when she saw the slightly distressed look on his face.

"I'll wait for you over there", he told her, gesturing to a seating area. "I'm not exactly comfortable with crowded places."

His admission surprised her. Not the fact itself, but that he'd said it. She appreciated his honesty with her and the fact he didn't make up an excuse to cover it. "Of course. I won't be long."

"Take your time, Felicity. Here," he said while handing her a few bills. "This should cover what you told me you needed."

She looked at the money incredulously. "Wow. I could barely buy a pair of panties with that amount in 2017."

A lady who was passing by them threw her a scandalized look and Felicity blushed. "Frak, I didn't mean to talk about my underwear in public, sorry." She gestured to the racks. "I'm just going to...right."

Oliver left with a hilarious look on his face, and she went to browse through the shelves, looking for a pair of capris and a shirt, something comfortable she could wear while spending time with Oliver. Something pretty too. She had her eye on a few deliciously vintage dresses (well, vintege to her at least), but they were above her budget and she wasn't going to ask more money from Oliver. She made her choices and was about to go pay when her eyes fell on a romper.

THE romper. The one she was wearing in the picture with Oliver on July 4th. She had to buy it,that romper was _fate._

Another woman grabbed it from the rack so Felicity made a run for it and took a hold of it at the same time.

The woman gave her an affronted look. "Excuse me Miss, I had this first."

"I know, and I'm really sorry, but it is of vital importance that I buy it."

The older lady raised an eyebrow. "Choose another one, then."

"I can't. If I don't buy this particular one, it might have very serious consequences for the future. This is an extremely serious matter, believe me." Her voice was a mixture of plea and foreboding as she pretended she was about to burst into tears.

The woman rolled her eyes and left the romper to Felicity, obviously not wanting to deal with a lunatic.

"I should have known shopping here was a bad idea," Felicity heard her mutter before walking to the exit.

She felt briefly guilty for making the store lose a customer but seriously, respecting the future was more important, even if it was just over a piece of clothing. To be honest, she doubted the fact she wore a red romper or a blue dress would change anything, but better be safe than sorry, right? And if she remembered the picture correctly, she really rocked that romper.

She compared the price tags with her money and she still had a little left. So she walked to the bath section and bought some scented soap, and on an impulse also took some pads. Time travelling was very romantic and all (well, except for the debilitating headache) but she had to remain pragmatic about some matters. She had no idea what kind of effect time travelling had on her biology, but she didn't want to find out.

She made her way to the cashier and paid for her items before meeting Oliver.

"You found everything?" he welcomed her with a smile.

"And then some. I even have a few cents left," she said, giving him a few coins. He pocketed them.

"I really should find a way to repay you. I could cook, but I would probably kill you."

He let out a deep hearted laugh and her heart fluttered at the sound. He put his hand on her shoulder before letting it slide down her back and she tried not to enjoy that simple gesture too much, but to no avail. Especially when he left it there until they reached the car.

On their way back she took out the pink silk nightgown she had bought and put it under her nose before grimacing.

"I might have to wash it. I don't know how many people touched it and it smells new. The wrong kind of new."

"You can use my washing machine," he offered.

Felicity gave him an incredulous look. "What? A washing machine? In 1948?"

"Well yes. 1948, Felicity. Not the middle ages."

"But you don't have a dishwasher."

"A what?" He briefly looked at her, his brow furrowed.

She laughed. "Ok, that answers my question, never mind."

"No wait, seriously. Dishwasher? When was that invented?"

She shrugged. "How would I know? I never felt the urge to research anything about dishwashers."

"You could gaugle it."

"It's Google. And yes, good idea. I'll let you know when I come back next time."

They exchanged a smile. She was excited at the prospect of a next time, and judging by the look on his face, so was he. "In the meantime, I look forward to using this fantastic washing machine of yours."

* * *

"So, uh...That is your washing machine?"

They were in the laundry room next to the kitchen, where Oliver told her the machine was situated. She had no idea why she had actually expected to find a modern one, but one thing for sure, she didn't expect to find...that.

The machine was composed of a small tank with some sort of rotator inside, and what seemed to be a wringer overlooking the tank. A pipe on the side was bent into the sink situated just behind.

Felicity let out a little laugh and Oliver gave her a mildly offended look.

"Hey, it's a Maytag. It's top of the line, you know."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make fun of it. This will do perfectly, you just have to show me how to use it."

He gave her a slightly insulted look before proceeding to show her, and after about 20 minutes her nightgown was hanging on a wire. She had to admit it was really practical and told him so, earning a smug grin in return. She would think twice about disparaging his appliances next time.

"It might not be dry by tonight. You can use something of my sister's."

"Or I could use the t-shirt you gave me the last time. It makes me a bit uncomfortable to keep borrowing clothes from your sister without her knowing."

"Of course. I think the t-shirt is still in Thea's room, actually."

Once the question of nightwear was settled, they could focus on more important stuff, like what to do for dinner and the evening activities.

"I suppose Netflix and chill is not on the table," she mused and he gave her a look, the same one he gave her everytime she said something too deliberately modern for him to understand. He finished chopping some onions and put them in a big salad bowl. Felicity was sitting at the kitchen table, dicing some tomatoes.

"Do you still play board games in 2017? Or are they obsolete ?"

"I love a good board game. Do you already have Monopoly?"

He nodded. "And Lexiko. Thea's very good at it."

She frowned. "I don't know that one."

"You get random letters and you have to make words. The better the word, the more points."

"Oh! The Scrabble ancestor. Sounds good."

They ate in the kitchen, conversing about their respective lives. Felicity told him about her childhood in Vegas and Oliver was surprised to hear Vegas was now a huge city and not just a spot in the desert with a few casinos and the Army Gunnery school.

He talked mostly about his family, and made one or two allusions to the war, although it remained rather vague and mundane, talking about his fellow soldiers, or how besides his photography he also enjoyed working in the Mess kitchen in Pearl Harbor. That's when he had discovered he had actually some cooking skills, even though he barely had the time to hone them in the years afterwards.

After they played a few games of Lexiko, with Felicity cheating - not really subtly - by inventing words and pretending they were modern, and Oliver retaliating by using words he pretended nobody used in 2017 anymore. They were also coming up with far-fetched definitions for those words to justify their use. Nobody won, but Felicity couldn't remember laughing so hard while doing such a simple activity.

She couldn't help a big yawn as Oliver was putting the game back in its box. He smiled fondly. "The time traveler needs her rest."

"Well, it is past 11 pm and I'm not a night owl. Do you have plans for tomorrow? I arrived here a bit unexpectedly, so if you have something planned don't change it on my account."

"Tomorrow's Sunday, which means I generally go help my friend John at his restaurant. They're always full for lunch with people coming directly from Mass. Wait, maybe you want to go to Mass?"

She stood up, picking up their glasses to take them back to the kitchen. "If I were going to go to a religious service, I would go to the Synagogue. I'm Jewish," she added with a smile.

"Ok. Well there is a synagogue on Mercer street, if you want to go. I could drive you."

His thoughtfulness filled her heart with a warm glow. She put the glasses in the sink before turning to him, squeezing his bicep in gratitude, trying hard not to reflect too much on how pleasantly firm it felt under her fingers.

"No, it's okay to skip it just this once. Do you mind if I come with you to your friend's restaurant?"

"No, quite the contrary. But we'll have to come with with a backstory for you."

She nodded pensively. "I guess they might find it weird for me to come from Vegas...I studied in Boston, we could use that. Who would I be?"

"Uh...my cousin?" His shoulder rose slightly, as if he was aware of how lame it sounded.

She laughed out loud. "That's not cliché at all."

"It's not like John or Lyla are going to believe it anyway, but they won't press the matter. There might be other people I know though, and they might be curious. As a single, beautiful woman, it's not appropriate for you to stay with me."

She blushed at his words, at the implication of them. "I understand, it definitely wouldn't compute with some people in this time and age. Oh, that was a good word. And a real one."

She hesitated before adding. "If you want to tell John and Lyla the truth, it's fine by me. I understand why you wouldn't want to lie to your friends."

Oliver shook his head. "Thank you, but I'm not sure how that would go, so let's wait a bit."

Felicity nodded and stopped in front of the stairs.

"Have a good night, Oliver. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Sleep well, Felicity."

She hesitated before raising on her tiptoes and pressing a kiss to his cheek. The soft smile on his face let her know he had appreciated the gesture - and probably more, since she was pretty sure a faint blush covered his cheeks. He took her hand and squeezed it, letting it go only when she stepped too far away for him to keep holding on.

* * *

It was a bright Sunday morning. The azure sky was spotless and the temperatures allowed them to drive with the roof of the Auburn down.

Even though he kept his eyes mostly focused on the road, Oliver couldn't help but let them wander from time to time to his lovely passenger.

She made everything so much...better. Easier. Sweeter. Luminous.

His usual dark thoughts were still there - he had made peace with the fact they would never go away - but they much more subdued in her presence. He barely knew her, but he couldn't deny she had brought a light to his otherwise somber life.

Not that he wanted it to be this way, but it's not like he had a say in the matter.

He had come back from his three years at war miraculously unscathed - except for his knee, but that was more of a recurring nuisance - but maybe physical scars would have been better to handle. Because the mental ones, that was another matter entirely.

Unfortunately, once you were discharged from the army, or your service was done, you were on your own. They were aware of the problem though - calling it 'Combat Stress Reaction' - but offered no real solution or option except 'rest'. But the things Oliver had seen and experienced, whether in front of him or through the lens of his Rolleiflex were not things you could forget after a few good night's sleep.

Not all soldiers reacted the same way. His friend John seemed to cope much better, but Oliver had heard of another fellow soldier who had killed himself, and he was probably not the only one. Oliver was not that far gone, thankfully, but it was still a daily struggle and he couldn't really talk to anyone about it.

The impromptu arrival of Felicity had definitely soothed the recurring feeling of anxiety. Oliver wasn't so naive as to think her presence would magically make it disappear.

But it definitely was a balm on his wounded soul.

He turned his focus back to her, admiring the sun reflecting in her blond hair tied in a high ponytail. She was wearing a blue dress adorned with a small white flower print. She was humming softly, and Oliver thought this was as close as it could be to a perfect morning.

"As much as I love this car, it definitely lacks a radio," Felicity commented, her fingers poking the dashboard.

Oliver raised an eyebrow. "A radio? In the car?"

"Oh yes. You can pretty much listen to anything in your car now. Oh! I know ! Let's do the Carpool Karaoke 1948 Edition."

She shifted in her seat to turn to him with an excited smile. Of course he had no idea what she was talking about, but he played along.

"Karao-what?"

"Karaoke. It's a japanese word. It's when you sing along to recorded music. Except it's not recorded in our case, but this is just for fun."

He wasn't sure he'd understood everything she's just said, and he wasn't exactly a great singer, but he was ready to belt out the Traviata if it made her happy.

"Pick a song," she told him. "I don't know many oldies."

He sends her a fake, outraged glare. "Only if you stop calling them 'oldies'. This is 1948, the songs I know are the epitome of modernity," he replied with a teasing grin. He thought about it for a couple of minutes. "Do you know 'It's a Good Day' by Peggy Lee?"

"Yes! It's used in a commercial on TV." He rolled his eyes at that but she continued, "You start, I'm not sure I know all the lyrics."

"You have a nice voice, mister," she complimented him as they were finished.

"You're too kind. Ok, your turn. Sing me something from 2017."

"Oh God, let me think...It's Sunday morning, right? I think I have the perfect song, and it's one of my favorite bands."

 _Sunday morning rain is falling_

 _Steal some covers, share some skin_

Oliver's heart did a little jolt at the purity of her voice. Of course he had heard her sing just before, but their voices had mingled - quite harmoniously - , and she had giggled a few times when she stumbled on some of words, so he hadn't noticed how melodious she sounded.

It was mesmerizing.

He stopped the car and let the engine run, but she didn't notice right away as her eyes were closed and she was lost in the song. He turned to her and listened to the last lyrics as she finished the song and opened her eyes, only then noticing they were parked.

"Are we there?" she asked.

"No. I just wanted to listen to you without having to focus on the road. It was beautiful."

"Oh...Well, thank you."

She blushed at the same time their eyes met and he took the full impact of her blue eyes.

God, he was in trouble. His mind screamed at the complete insanity of the situation, but his heart refused to listen.

Yeah, John would take one good look at them and wouldn't be fooled for even one second.

* * *

"Your cousin, huh?"

Oliver put a layer of homemade tomato sauce in the dish before adding the last ingredients to finish the lasagna. He put it in the oven while giving John Diggle a knowing look.

"It's complicated."

John raised an eyebrow. "Do I get to know more?"

Oliver sighed, looking through the kitchen door into the dining room where Felicity was sitting with John's girlfriend Lyla, with baby Sara on her lap. The rush hour had passed and there were just two customers left in the cozy restaurant area.

John and Lyla's restaurant was elegant and comfortable, far from the diners you would find in town. It was also much frequented, as John's cooking skills (and occasionally Oliver's) were famous in the neighborhood. Most people favored a good meal and politely ignored the restaurant was run by a black man and his white girlfriend, an illegal feat. The restaurant was in Lyla's father name, who only wanted his daughter's happiness.

Oliver had prepared a souffle a bit earlier for Felicity and she had given him two thumbs up - he had felt ridiculously pleased, and proud she had enjoyed his cooking so much.

John was still waiting for an answer so Oliver turned back to his friend.

"I can't really tell you. It's just...I will, but not now."

John frowned. "There's nothing illegal going on, right? Is she in trouble? Fleeing from something, or someone? Because if you need help…"

Oliver smiled. "Nothing of the sort. But thank you for the offer."

"She seems like a lovely young woman," his friend said. "Rather...outspoken, but I like that."

Oliver chuckled softly at that and John gave him a tap on the shoulder. "Come on, let's join them, we have something to celebrate."

Oliver gave him a curious look but complied, sitting down next to Felicity while John brought a bottle of champaign to the table.

"Last Tuesday, the Supreme Court invalidated the laws and contracts forbidding black people to be landowners. So I'm now finally the owner of...my own restaurant."

"About time," Oliver said and shook John's hand before leaning in and pressing a kiss to Lyla's cheek.

"It felt really good signing the official documents. I will forever be grateful to my father for helping us, but things are now as they should be," Lyla said with a loving look toward John.

"Congratulation, Mr Diggle," Felicity chimed in, but something in her tone alerted Oliver. It was a bit off.

"Please call me John, Felicity."

"Alright, John."

He poured them 4 glasses of champagne and they toasted, spending another hour chatting. Felicity was her usual talkative self, even though Oliver could see she was still measuring some of her words, being careful of what she said.

Oliver was happy to see she genuinely seemed to appreciate his friends, and it was obviously reciprocated. Then again, he wondered if there was anyone stupid enough in 2017 or any other time period to not like Felicity Smoak. The concept sounded ludicrous to him.

When it was time for Diggle and Lyla to clean and tidy up everything for the next day - they were closed on Sunday nights- Oliver and Felicity offered to stay and help but the other couple refused and urged them to go enjoy the late afternoon sun.

As he started the car, Oliver turned to Felicity, "Are you ok ? You seemed troubled when John made his announcement."

She sighed, and there was something sad about the sound. "No, it's just...I remembered this was 1948 and people like John don't have basic human rights. Not that it's that much better in 2017 but still...I guess they're not married either?"

Oliver shook his head sadly. "It's against the law."

"Anti-miscegenation laws, I know. A movie came out last year about the first interracial couple who was allowed to marry."

"Oh, so you mean they still have a chance? When did that happen?" he asked with an hopeful smile.

"It was...or will be, in 1967 so...20 years from now." Seeing Oliver's face fall, she quickly added, "But a lot of states started to repeal those laws after the second World War. It might be sooner than that. I don't have more details, unfortunately."

Oliver took her hand and gave it a squeeze. "It's already something. I understand why you say it's better to stay ignorant of the future most of the time."

"I can tell you something, though," she said, wanting to give him a little positivity. "Their grandson Henry works at the same company as me. Since his last name is Diggle, I would assume John and Lyla got married at some point. And had a son. Or will have one. Anyway, he's the head of security. He looks a lot like John...He gives the same great hugs." she added with a mischievous smile.

Oliver sent her a teasing glance, "I knew I saw you blush when he hugged you to say goodbye."

"Hey, can you blame me? Have you seen his arms? Lyla is a lucky woman. Anyway, you can't tell them about Henry, obviously."

"Not that I would, but what difference would that make? Except them thinking I turned stark raving mad?"

"Because when you know something about the future, you increase the risks of doing something to change it. Imagine they know, and every time their son brings back a girlfriend home they will be like, what if she's the mother of our grandchildren? They could potentially scare the future mother away and Henry would never have been born. And since he was super nice to me on my first day, I really need him to be there."

Oliver chuckled. "I hadn't thought of it that way"

"It's nothing personal, you know. I guess I could tell you about big events on which you could have no impact anyway, like the first man on the moon."

"We sent people on the moon?" His eyes left the road to look at her with awe and the car swayed a little bit. Fortunately they had arrived at the house, so instead of crashing into anything he parked the car. Once he stepped out he came around to her side of the car to open her door for her. This was the side of 1948 she found charmingly old-fashioned. She certainly didn't need help to open her door, but she appreciated it all the same.

"In 1969," Felicity said, answering Oliver's question. "Then again you could be a dangerous psychopath and try to kill Neil Armstrong."

"Well, I'm not a psychopath, and I don't even know where this Neil Armstrong lives, so the future mission on the moon is safe with me."

He opened the front door and they walked in the cool foyer. After the warm temperatures outside, it made Felicity shiver slightly.

"Still, the less you know, the better."

"Ok, but what about betting on sports events? Have you thought about it? You could get rich very quickly."

She stared at him incredulously and saw he was joking. Also, it's not as if she hadn't thought about it herself. "That wouldn't be very ethical, and to be honest, I don't know much about sports. Is betting already a thing in 1948?"

"I'm pretty sure people have been betting on sports for centuries," he said, putting his car keys in the bowl on the chest near the door.

"Fair point. It is tempting, but it's also cheating, and that kind of thing always comes to bite you back in the ass."

She was about to climb the stairs when he called her back. "Felicity?" He had never given any thoughts about women's names before, but he really enjoyed the way hers rolled off his tongue.

"I understand you can't tell me anything, but if I can ask only one thing...nothing specific but...about my sister?"

She hesitated before walking back to him, and he was sure she was going to gently turn him down.

"I trust this will stay between us," she said and he nodded, grateful but also scared all of a sudden. What if he didn't want to hear it?

"The company I work for is named Queen Consolidated. Your sister built it."

He let out a puff of breath, relieved, and also proud. He always knew Thea would do great things.

Felicity smiled and put a hand on his bicep. He caught it and brought it to his lips as a grateful gesture. "Thank you," he murmured. She was looking at him with candid and gentle eyes and he was really tempted to take her lovely face between his hands and kiss her.

He was almost sure she wouldn't mind, but he couldn't be 100 % sure so he wouldn't take the chance to force himself on her and scare her away. Instead, he let got of her hand, but not without regrets.

"I have a good Pinot, we can have a glass in the garden before dinner?" he offered.

The beaming smile on her face told him he had said the right thing and he couldn't help but smile back. Her constant joie de vivre was infectious.

"A delightful idea, Mr Queen," she replied with a wink. "I'll go freshen up and will meet you in the garden."

He watched her climb the stairs, wondering how she could have made herself so indispensable to his life in just a few days. He had no idea if he should be delighted or terrified at the idea.

Probably a bit of both.

* * *

On the last day of her stay, Felicity walked out of her room and noticed something was different.

Oliver was an early riser, and when Felicity got out of her room in the morning there was always music downstairs, whether from the radio or the gramophone, and it smelled deliciously of bacon and waffles.

Not today.

The silence felt not only abnormal, but eerie, and it didn't give her a good feeling. Oliver's bedroom open door told her he wasn't there, so she went downstairs to investigate. Maybe he had made a quick errand and left her a note?

He wasn't gone. He was sitting at the kitchen table, his head in his hand, and her heart rate accelerated. Had something happened?

"Oliver?" she called out softly. He didn't react, so she walked to him. His face was tense, his eyes closed. She didn't dare touch him, worried she'd startle him, so she called again.

"Oliver?"

This time he raised his head, looked at her and her heart broke at the haunted look in his eyes and the anguish covering his face.

"Felicity...Sorry, I didn't hear you." His voice was rough, a bit short of breath.

Felicity knew an anxiety attack when she saw one. She debated what to do, between leaving or staying and try to help him through it.

"Do you want me to leave you alone?"

"No!" There was an edge of panic in his voice he almost immediately tried to hide. "Stay...please."

The undisguised plea in his voice brought tears to her eyes, but she swallowed them back. She took one of the chairs and sat next to him, putting a hand on his forearm resting on the table. His other hand immediately came up to cover hers.

"I didn't have a good night," he told her with an apologetic smile, and she had the feeling he was trying to downplay this as a one-off occurrence. She knew better, but she wasn't going to argue with him right now.

She pushed her chair a bit closer and slid her hands around his arm, putting her cheek against his biceps. "It's ok, Oliver. I'm here."

He nodded and closed his eyes again, exhaling softly and she felt the tension slowly leave his body, his features relaxing slightly. Felicity didn't say anything, just waiting for him to go through this, offering silent support.

After a few minutes he grabbed one of her hands and brought it to his lips, pressing a kiss on her knuckles. A surge of warmth and pride flooded her heart for this man she barely knew but already cared so much for.

If she had to be honest, she had never believed in the theory of 'soulmates' . She didn't think people were 'destined' to be together, had even laughed a bit at the idea. Not because she was cynical, just realistic.

Meeting Oliver had shaken those beliefs a little bit.

Not that she thought Oliver was her soulmate. But she couldn't deny, considering the extraordinary circumstances, that fate got a kick out of reuniting them across time periods, apparently.

Which meant, somehow ,their lives were intertwined. And she really liked that idea.

A smile finally graced his lips as he looked at her. "Breakfast?"

"I would love some."

Her stomach grumbled and they both laughed, dissipating the last remnant of this emotional moment, and yet something new, something deep had taken root between them and she wasn't about to let it go.

* * *

They were both standing in front of the mirror, a little bit of awkwardness surrounding them, obviously not wanting to go or let go.

"I still haven't taken a vacation this year," Felicity stated, "So I thought I could come back at the end of June, spend the 4th of July here? If that's ok with you?" she added quickly.

The smile blossoming on Oliver's face and the little sparkle in his blue eyes gave away his answer before he formed the words. "That sounds great. When will you be back?"

"In about three weeks? I have to put a request for my days off, and there's this big project at work coming on that needs my attention, which has been a bit lacking recently. So let's say June 25 ?"

"I'll be here."

The promise his voice held made her heart do a little jolt. "I'd better go, Caitlin is probably waiting for me." She looked at the mirror then back at him, taking his hand in some form of goodbye, the feeling of his skin under her fingers making her acutely aware of her every nerve ending.

In the moment, she decided the formality was unnecessary between them, and giving in to her impulse, raised on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek and hug him goodbye. His arms automatically wrapped around her waist and she was pressed against his chest. She savored the feeling of safety and the warmth enveloping her for a moment.

"Be safe, Felicity," he murmured, his face buried in her neck before he kissed her cheek and let her go.

She brought her hand to his cheek in a swift caress and his hand covered hers, maybe an attempt to hold her with him a few more minutes.

Before she could change her mind, she turned around and touched the mirror.

* * *

The first thing she noticed was she was still standing. She wasn't crumpled on the floor with a blinding headache. She was...fine.

"Huh."

"Are you ok?"

Caitlin, who had been waiting on the other side, was looking at her with a half-surprised, half-worried expression.

Felicity looked at her. "I guess?" She noticed the sheet and pillows on the floor. "Did you do this?"

"Well I expected you to come through and collapse dramatically while holding your head. My mistake, apparently."

With a smile, Felicity hugged the young woman. "You're a great friend."

Of course that's when a sharp pain stabbed her skull, though it didn't last, leaving a dull feeling, not especially pleasant but far better than what she had experienced so far.

"I'm ok," she reassured Caitlin, but she saw her friend's eyes go wide at the same time an abnormal warm wetness coated her upper lip.

"Felicity…"

She brought her hand to her nose, not really surprised when she saw the blood covering them. She sighed.

"That's not good."


	5. Chapter 5

Felicity pinched the bridge of her nose before caving in and opening her drawer from where she took some ibuprofen. She popped one in her mouth and swallowed it with some water. She had no idea if her headache was a residue of her time travelling, or just some after effect of spending the last few days in front of computer screens in order to get rid of porn viruses.

 _After her nosebleed, Caitlin had insisted Felicity get tests done. She'd protested at first, telling her friend a nosebleed didn't automatically mean giant brain tumor. Caitlin hadn't found it funny. For her friend's peace of mind - and to be honest, her own as well- Felicity had relented._

 _The results had come back clean._

 _Caitlin had put her finger under Felicity's nose. "If you say I told you so…"_

 _Felicity had taken her friend's hand in hers. "I won't. I'm grateful I have a friend who takes care of me like you do."_

 _Caitlin had given her a quick hug._

" _I have to go back to work but my lunch break is in 30 minutes. You want to wait for me?"_

 _Felicity nodded. "In the meantime can I go the the pediatric ward and watch the babies?"_

"Felicity?"

She jumped in her seat, torn out of her daydreaming by Jonas Harper.

"You seemed lost in some pretty deep thought," he said with a smile. "I heard you took a day off to get some medical exam. I hope everything is ok?"

She wasn't sure if she ought to be flattered or offended or even creeped out by his curiosity about her or her private life, but she decided on the first, since his concern seemed genuine.

"Nothing to be alarmed about. Just a check-up," she reassured him with a smile.

"Oh good. Listen, I was wondering...uh…"

Was he blushing ? Felicity's heart rate accelerated and alarm bells resonated in her head. _Oh no. I should have seen this coming. Wait, I actually saw this coming._

"Would you like to have dinner sometime?"

She opened her mouth, for once at a loss of what to say, except...

 _I can't, I'm kind of in love with your dead great-uncle._

But that would probably make the situation even more awkward, so she settled for "I would, but I'm...seeing someone."

He raised his hands with an apologetic smile. "Of course. I understand. Have a nice day, Felicity."

"You too, Mr Harper."

After he left, she looked at the other cubicles but they were thankfully empty. The last thing she needed was for a rumor to start about her and Jonas.

She closed her eyes, longing for the soothing presence of Oliver, the quietness of his house, the sense of familiarity and belonging she felt when she was there with him.

Which reminded her she hadn't gotten a reply yet for her requested days for the holidays. She hoped she wouldn't be denied. And if she was, well...she would take a sick leave, then.

She froze, opening her eyes. _Woah. Ok, Felicity, stop right there. Your professional ethics are better than this. Come on._

She definitely seemed to have misplaced her common sense. First, by refusing to go out with a kind and handsome man - granted, he was her CEO which would open a whole can of worms, but still - then by contemplating taking a false sick leave to spend time 70 years in the past with a guy she barely knew.

She put her forehead on her desk with a groan.

"What is my life?"

The ringing of her phone was her only answer.

"Hello?"

There was a pause, then, "Aren't you supposed to introduce yourself?" Caitlin asked.

Felicity sighed. "Oh, right. Felicity Smoak, IT department."

Caitlin giggled. "Not to me, obviously. I know I'm calling you. What's going on?"

"I need a drink."

"It's 9.30 in the morning, Felicity. Did something happen?"

"Yes...no. No health issues, if that's what you're asking. But I can't talk about it here or right now."

"Ronnie has his fantasy football thing tomorrow evening. Want to go Chez Marta? It's been a while."

The idea of spending a nice evening with her best friend at one of her favorite restaurants reinvigorated Felicity.

"Great idea. I'll make reservations."

She really needed someone to tell her she wasn't completely screwing up her life.

* * *

"So on one hand we have Jonas Harper. Gorgeous, billionaire, nice guy. Alive."

"Also my boss," Felicity interrupted but Caitlin waved her hand dismissively.

"That's a detail. On the other hand, we have Oliver Queen. Also gorgeous, millionaire - but who's counting?- nice guy too, apparently, but with some issues."

"It's PTSD. Which is quite normal after everything he's been through."

Caitlin made a balancing gesture with her hands. "I sort of understand the dilemma, although I wish I could meet Oliver so I would understand why you're choosing to be with the one who's dead."

The waiter interrupted their conversation by bringing them their entree.

Chez Marta was full, as it was every Friday evening, but the two friends were in one of the many secluded corners for which the restaurant was well known for, allowing privacy which led to many proposals and happy announcements. It was the oldest restaurant in Star City and its cozy atmosphere and delicious food had kept them going for decades.

Felicity dived into her risotto with gusto. Her life might be a reality show but it would be cold in hell before she wouldn't appreciate a good meal.

"I haven't chosen anyone because, well...There's no choice to make. Jonas is my boss, and while he's very nice and great looking, I don't have those feelings for him. And Oliver…" She put her fork on her plate, taking a big gulp of her white wine. "I don't know what I'm doing with Oliver, but then again I don't know what I'm doing with my life, so..."

Caitlin smiled sympathetically. "Ok, you know I support you on this, and you also know I'm worried, especially after what happened the last time you came back. Now you're going to spend what...3 weeks with him? See what happens, take it one day at a time and see how things progress between the two of you, if they progress. And when you come back, you make a decision. Because one thing is for sure, you can't keep doing this for much longer."

Felicity sighed. "I understand and I agree. But what kind of decision am I supposed to make exactly? Staying in 2017 or 1948?" Felicity laughed and raised her glass to her lips, frowning when confronted with its empty bottom. "I already said it a gazillion times, but this is insane. I can't drop everything and go live in 1948. I mean, can I even vote?"

Caitlin chuckled. "Since the 1920's, yes."

"Oh. Good. But irrelevant, since it's not going to happen."

Caitlin smiled at her softly, and Felicity sighed. She wasn't going to like what her friend had to say, but Caitlin's honesty was one of the reasons Felicity loved her and why she was her confidant in this crazy experience.

"You will have to make a choice, if only because I suspect your body won't allow you to do this much longer. You will have to stop before...it's too late," Caitlin said softly, taking her friend's hand over the table. "You think you don't have to, but at some point it's going to be a vital necessity."

Felicity guessed what she was going to say next so she beat Caitlin to it.

"And if...when I do, I have to tell Oliver. I can't leave and never come back without saying anything."

She squeezed Caitlin's hand before letting it go. "Hey, for all I know we'll just stay friends and we'll say goodbye at the end of my stay and it will be the end of it."

She hadn't even convinced herself with that little speech so she wasn't surprised by the dubious look Caitlin sent her.

"I really like him, Caitlin. A lot. I know I barely spent a week in total with him but...I feel it in here," she said, tapping her stomach. "Not sure it's reciprocated, though. And if it isn't, I guess it will make it easier for me to leave."

"I'm not sure what to wish for you here, considering the circumstances...I just don't want you to get hurt."

"I won't. Especially not if we order their famous Tiramisu right now."

Caitlin gave her a look showing she wasn't oblivious to her little deflection, but let it go.

They asked for the dessert menu, and Caitlin pointed out something.

"Did you notice? The restaurant's been open since 1943. If Oliver wants to take you on a date…"

"It doesn't have to be a date. We can just have dinner together."

"Of course," Caitlin replied with a knowing grin. "You know, with all this I think you haven't asked yourself the real question."

"Which is?"

"How long can you live without wifi?"

* * *

"Oliver?"

A bit startled, the young man turned around and a big grin appeared on his face when he noticed Felicity on the kitchen's threshold.

"Hey! You just arrived? Wait, you're ok? No headache?"

She shook her head with a smile and walked to him. "Nope."

"Come here."

She slid into his arms, closing her eyes, savoring the feel of his firm chest against her cheek, the comforting warmth surrounding her.

"I missed you," he whispered against her hair and she smiled. She had missed him so much. Those three weeks had been interminable. But now she was here, and she was going to enjoy it to the max. Especially since there didn't seem to be side effects this ti...

Oh no. No, no, no, no…

Her tongue darted out of her mouth and her heart sank when she felt the coppery taste of blood on her upper lips. Why? Why did she foolishly imagine it would be different? The effects were delayed for some reason, but they were still there, just sneaking up on her at the worst time.

"Oliver, don't freak out, but I might have spoken a little too….Aah!"

A searing pain pierced her skull and she bent over, barely aware of Oliver's panicked shouts of her name.

She woke up a bit later, blinking out of her daze, wondering how she had arrived in Oliver's bed. Daylight was pouring out of Oliver bedroom's windows. She blinked a few more times, trying to get rid of the fog clouding her brain. At least her head wasn't hurting anymore, but she wasn't feeling so well.

Oliver was sitting next to her, his back against the headboard. He had a book in his hands, but his vacant look was a clear indication he wasn't actually reading. He noticed she was awake, and the way he discarded the book without even marking the page confirmed her impression.

"Hey." She grimaced at the hoarseness of her voice. Oliver took the glass of water on the nightstand and handed it to her.

"Thank you," she muttered as she tried to raise herself up. She felt terribly dizzy still, and she couldn't help the little whimper escaping her lips. All her muscles ached as if she had run a marathon.

"Careful," he said softly, helping her to take a few sips before putting the glass back. She let herself fall back on the pillow and he laid down next to her, his head resting on one hand, the fingertips of the other coming to graze her forehead. She sighed at the touch.

"I would ask you how you feel, but it seems pretty obvious."

She nodded carefully. "Everything hurts."

"You lost a lot of blood." It was said matter-of-factly but he couldn't disguise the worry in his voice.

"That probably explains the dizziness. The same thing happened when I got back the last time."

He frowned. "What? And you still took the risk to come back? Felicity…"

"I'm alright, Oliver."

"Alright?" He jumped out of the bed, went to the bathroom before coming back holding a towel covered in ugly brownish spots. "I don't know what the definition of 'alright' is in 2017, but my bathroom towel covered in your blood is not what I call alright."

Her eyes widened at his outburst, but the tense lines on his face, the way his jaw clenched and the firm grip he had on his towel made her wonder if he was angry, or scared. Or probably both.

He confirmed the latter when he threw the towel on the floor and came back to sit next to her. She didn't know what to say, so she just looked at him, and he sighed. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to shout. I just...panicked a little. "

She took his hand. "It's ok, it's a lot of blood. It wasn't that much the first time."

"I wanted to take you to the hospital, then I remembered you don't technically exist here and…" He put his hand over his eyes, a slight shudder shaking his shoulders. "I didn't know what to do."

"I'll have to think of making fake ID papers for next time." she said with a smile.

"Don't joke about that."

"Yeah. So much for thinking...hoping...three weeks would make a difference."

"What happened the last time?"

"I just had a nosebleed. No headache though, or fainting. I did a CAT scan -an xray of my brain - but they found nothing. So when I arrived earlier and I felt fine, I really thought - naively, I know- I was out of the woods."

"Are you feeling better?" His hand took hers, and the tension vanished from his face, as if her touch had the power to soothe him.

She nodded. "Still a bit weak, but better."

"I was thinking of going out to eat, but let's stay in tonight. We can go tomorrow."

She gave him a little teasing grin. She felt comfortable being a little bit flirty."Are you asking me out on a date?"

"Uh...well…" Felicity giggled softly when she saw him blushing. "In that case, I should ask properly. Felicity, would you like to go on a date with me?"

Her heart swelled at his formal tone and the hopeful glint in his gorgeous blue eyes.

"I would love to."

A grin spread his face and she couldn't resist teasing him again. "A date is the least you can do since you already put me in your bed."

He seemed shocked for a minute, his eyebrows meeting his hairline and she bit her lips. Maybe that statement was a bit bold for the time?

But another smile soon graced his lips, this time very different. Not goofy or sweet, but much more...predatory. Especially as his eyes darkened as he leaned towards her.

"Felicity," he whispered and his low, raspy tone sent a shiver all the way to her toes. "If I really had put you in my bed, we wouldn't have time to go to the restaurant."

Her breath caught in her throat. She had been used to a sweet, kind Oliver but this new behavior...she liked it a lot.

He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "Get some more rest."

"Will we be going to John and Lyla's?"

"There are plenty of restaurants in Star City. We can go wherever you want."

She smiled. "Then I know a very good place."

* * *

"I told you I was a disaster in the kitchen." Felicity put the bowl back on the counter with a defeated sigh.

"I noticed, since there's more flour on your face than in the bowl."

"It's not my fault you chose a complicated recipe." she retorted and he half-laughed, half-scoffed in response.

"It's apple pie, Felicity."

She bumped his shoulder playfully and he laughed, wetting a towel. "Come here."

He wiped the flour delicately from her face and hairline. His other hand was on her shoulder to keep her steady and his thumb brushed the softness of her skin. She cursed internally as she felt heat invading her cheek at his touch, hoping she wasn't too red in the face. Hopefully the flour would cover most of it.

"I bet I look like Olaf." she joked.

He raised an eyebrow. "I could confirm that if I knew who Olaf was."

"Olaf is from a Disney movie called Frozen. He's a talking snowman."

Oliver let out a little laugh. "Interesting."

She started singing the first verse of 'Do you wanna build a snowman.' Oliver leaned against the counter, his arms crossed, watching her with a mix of confusion and fondness.

"Seriously?" he asked when she was done.

Felicity shrugged. "I'm a big Disney fan."

"I took my sister to see Snow White. I wanted to take her see Bambi but I was overseas at the time."

"Bambi traumatised me. Especially when the mother was killed. It's too sad. Don't do that to your sister."

"Ollie?"

"In the kitchen! Speak about the devil... It's Thea," he told Felicity as they heard someone come into the house.

Felicity held her breath, anxiety tightening her stomach. Not only was this Oliver's sister, but also the future founder of an extremely successful company, the very same company she was working for, though right now Thea Queen was just a young woman enjoying her life.

Thea appeared in the kitchen with a smile on her face, and Felicity recognized her immediately from the few pictures she had seen, although the grainy, black and white photos didn't do her justice. She had a fresh, impish face surrounded by brown curls. Her smile grew as she spotted Felicity.

"Hi. You must be Felicity. I'm Thea," she greeted her, holding out her hand.

"It's very nice to meet you."

Thea shrugged good-naturedly. "I was curious to be honest. My brother kept yammering on about you," she said, earning a glare from Oliver she completely ignored. "He told me you're from Boston?"

Felicity looked briefly at Oliver, remembering their 'cover' story. "Uh, yes."

"It's so nice to meet another woman who went to college. I might need some advice."

"Thea got accepted into Harvard," Oliver said, putting his arm around Thea's shoulder, not even trying to hide his pride.

"What, like it's hard?" Thea joked and he pressed a kiss to her forehead.

Felicity had never regretted not having a sibling until now. Those two obviously shared a strong bond despite their age difference.

Thea refocused her blue eyes on Felicity. "Anyway, if you have some pointers and wish to share them...there wasn't a lot of women at MIT either, right?"

Felicity racked her brain, trying to remember the Institute's history.

"No. A dozen or so. I'm sure you'll do great though. And feel free to ask me anything," she added, although she hoped the questions wouldn't be too specifics.

"Thank you. Oh, and Ollie told me you had some luggage issues...feel free to help yourself from my closet upstairs."

Felicity was a bit taken aback but pleased by the kindness of the other woman.

"That's very nice of you. Thank you."

"What are you doing on July 4?" Oliver asked his sister.

"Hanging on with some friends, and Roy."

Oliver raised an eyebrow. "Roy…?"

Thea rolled her eyes. "Roy Harper. You know."

"I didn't know you were hanging out." Felicity smiled at the protective tone of his voice but Thea just gave him an exasperated look.

"We saw each other at Verdant a few weeks ago. He's the bar manager there. We spent some time together, it's all very new. Please don't get all protective big brother and give him a talk or something."

"I won't. Roy is a good guy. He's a bit older than you, but…"

Thea gave him another look and Felicity couldn't help but laugh softly.

Oliver raised his hands in surrender. "Ok, ok."

"But Felicity is welcomed to come to my surprise Birthday party."

Oliver shook his head with an affectionate smile. "It's not a surprise birthday party if you know about it, Thea"

Thea grinned . "As long as Mom doesn't know I know, we're good. And on that note, I'm off. I'll call you in the next few days," she told Oliver before turning to Felicity. "Bye, Felicity. It was lovely meeting you," she said, shaking her hand again, and Felicity assumed that contrary to the 21st century, people didn't kiss or hug when they barely knew each other.

"Likewise, Thea. Thank you for the invitation. I'll do my best to be there."

Thea left as she had arrived, a whirlwind of energy. Felicity wasn't surprised she had built a multi-billion dollar company from nothing.

"Well, that was my sister," Oliver huffed with a laugh but a fond look in his eyes.

"She's lovely. You two seem very close."

"We are. I'm happy that my years away didn't change that, quite the contrary. She's very bright. She deserves the best. I'm grateful you told me about the company. It's comforting to know."

They exchanged a smile and she briefly thought she could stand here all day looking at this fine man.

"Shall we finish that apple pie?" she said, wanting to go back to more simple tasks.

"Sure. Uh...About Roy…"

She gave him a blinding smile, making a zip gesture on her mouth with her fingers "Nope."

* * *

"It's amazing to think they will still be open in 70 years," Oliver said as he closed the door of Chez Marta.

Felicity caught his arm as they walked to the car. "I'm happy I could actually meet Marta. When I first started going to the restaurant she had already been dead for a few years."

Oliver opened the door and she turned to him with a smile.

"I had a really nice time."

Her companion raised an eyebrow. "Who said the evening was over?"

"Oooh, my mistake then." She sat down and he closed the door with a wink, which made her stomach do a little somersault.

This date was going extremely well so far.

Oliver started the car. It was a warm evening, a normal occurrence for the beginning of July. Felicity closed her eyes, enjoying the balmy breeze on her face as they drove. When she opened them after a few minutes, she noticed they weren't driving to Oliver's home.

"Wait, this isn't the way to the house?" she asked as they seemed to leave the suburbs and drove to a more wooded area. "Is this the part where I discover you're actually a serial killer?"

He rolled his eyes with a smile. "It would be the perfect crime though. Nobody will look for you in 1948 since nobody knows you're here-"

"Dig and Lyla know."

"They are my friends, so they're on my side," he replied with a smirk. "And in 2017 they will never figure out where you disappeared to."

"My friend Caitlin knows, but I doubt anybody would believe her," Felicity admitted with a laugh.

"Well, I'm not a serial killer, whatever that means although I can take a wild guess."

They had arrived at a promontory overlooking Star City and Oliver stopped the car. The amount of lights coming from the city was obviously not as strong as in modern times, allowing them to have a spectacular view of the stars, sprinkled all over the dark sky like glitter.

"Wow," Felicity breathed with awe. "I had no idea this place existed."

"I discovered it a couple years ago. Back then I couldn't sleep most nights so I would go for a drive. I ended here one day. I found it soothing."

She took his hand, squeezing it. "Thank you for sharing it with me."

They stared at the sky for a minute in a companion silence.

"Let me know if you're getting cold," he told her, always the gentleman and Felicity smiled.

"I'm good."

She was wearing a light sweater over her green floral dress so there was probably no risk of that happening. And Oliver's presence and the wine she'd had during dinner was enough to keep her basking in a pleasant glow.

He opened his door and went to open the trunk, coming back with a basket in which there was a bottle of champagne and two glasses.

"Time for dessert. Let's do this in style," he said as she let out a little squeal of delight upon seeing the bottle. "It's probably not very fresh but it will do."

"I thought the delicious tiramisu we had at the restaurant was the dessert."

"This is the second part," he winked while handing her one of the flute.

They clinked their glasses. "Let's toast to your holidays," Oliver offered. "Or rather your unusual choice of holidays."

"Hey, who would want to go to Bali when they can stay in Star city in the 1940's?"

He took a sip. "I actually wouldn't mind going to Bali."

She sighed."I've never been outside the US. First I didn't have the means, then with work I never found the time."

He looked into the bottom of his glass. "Hawaii was nice...considering the circumstances. And before that day, of course."

Felicity hesitated, but since he had broached the subject first…"Where were you?"

"There was this restaurant near our base, on the waterfront where we liked to go. We made friends with the owner and the chef, and when we had some time off John and I liked to go help in the kitchen. Well, mostly John, since he was so good at it, I just tagged along for fun, and for a chance to relax. That's where we were when the Japanese attacked."

He was looking in the void, obviously remembering that day, and she didn't dare say anything.

"The restaurant was mostly destroyed, and the chef was killed. I got hurt in the leg - got some shrapnel and glass - and John, who was the only one not harmed, helped me out. He saved my life by getting me out, the restaurant collapsed a few minutes after that."

Felicity took his hand, intertwining their fingers together. "I'll have to make sure to thank him next time I see him then."

He smiled, even though it was tainted with some sadness, and squeezed her hand.

"What you're suffering from, it's called PTSD. Post traumatic stress disorder. I did some research, and it won't officially being diagnosed before another 5 years," Felicity informed him.

"Is there a cure?"

"Antidepressants and antianxiety medication. Only with a prescription though. You can easily get addicted. And then therapy, of course."

"But none of which is available right now." It wasn't a question, more of a resigned statement.

She shook her head before pressing her cheek on his biceps. "I'm sorry, this is a heavy subject, we don't have to t alk about this. It's none of my business."

"No, I don't mind talking to you. I haven't talked to anyone about all of this in a long time. Even with John, we generally avoid the subject."

"You can talk to me anytime," Felicity offered softly. "I'm not as qualified as a therapist, obviously, but it might be good for you to unload some of it."

He pressed a kiss to her forehead, letting his lips linger a bit longer than necessary. "Thank you Felicity. I will. Just...not anymore tonight."

She disentangled their hands and took the bottle of champagne to pour their glasses. "So, tell me what's good at the movies lately?"

* * *

Felicity was sitting on the couch, letting the light summer breeze coming from the open window caress her cheeks. She looked at the glass of water she had poured herself, wondering why she did it since she wasn't thirsty.

She was alone in the house, which had been her intention since she really needed to think. They had planned on running some errands but she had claimed a slight headache - which had not exactly been well thought out since Oliver had immediately gotten worried, fearing it was a residue of her time travelling. She had quelled his fear quickly by pretexting she just wasn't used to the heat and it was nothing more than that.

He left reluctantly and she felt a little bad for lying to him, but she needed to be alone.

She couldn't stop thinking about Caitlin's words before she left - she was going to have to make a decision by the end of her trip. When Thea Queen had mentioned her birthday party, Felicity had been excited about it, before remembering it was at the beginning of August, meaning it would require another trip through the mirror.

And she wasn't sure how many more trips her body could take.

There was also, and this was the most important, the matter of Oliver.

What was going on between them? They had shared some really sweet moments the other night, and she would be stupid to deny there was attraction on both sides. There were also deep feelings on hers, but of course she couldn't talk about Oliver's. Because what if he had feelings for her?

What if he asked her to stay with him? Would she be able to do it? Would she be able to completely uproot her life in 2017 and leave everything behind to come live in 1948 permanently?

What would she do every time a big tragedy happened, knowing about it ahead of time but not being able to do anything ? How could she live with the knowledge there wouldn't be much of anything she could do to prevent it? And what of the risk to changing the future? Could it precipitate an even bigger catastrophe?

This was such a momentous decision.

At the same time, the idea of never seeing Oliver ever again created a gaping hole in her heart she was sure would never close again.

And maybe, Oliver didn't share any of the same feelings and she was just tormenting herself with useless, presumptuous questions. Felicity rubbed her forehead with a sigh. Her pretend headache was threatening to become real.

She heard Oliver come back, heading for the kitchen, probably to drop his shopping bags. It wasn't long before he appeared in the living room, a still worried look on his face.

"Hey. Are you feeling better?"

She gave him a reassuring smile. "Much."

He sat in front of her on the table, moving the glass of water aside. "Penny for your thoughts?"

Of course he had noticed something was bothering her, and the thought filled her heart with love and her stomach with dread. Fate had been so benevolent to put each of them on the same path, but also incredibly cruel by separating them by several decades.

An actual lifetime.

She sighed. "I love your house."

If he was surprised by her random statement, he didn't show it. "Technically, it's your house too. Or it will be in 70 years."

"Then I prefer this version, the one where you live in it. The 2017 version feels hollow."

"What surprises me is that I was still living there after all these years. Why didn't I go to a nice retirement home?"

Felicity shrugged, unable to answer him. Another thought occurred to her."Why did you never come find me?"

Oliver laughed. "And say what? Can you imagine 90 year old me coming to see 20 something you with 'Hey, please come see the mirror in my attic?' How long until you call the cops on the creepy old guy with a suspicious offer?"

"Good point. That is not a very good pick up line."

"To say the least."

She bit her lower lip, her eyes capturing his. "It would work better if you used it now."

His eyes widened and his pupils darkened, letting her know he had understood the implication behind her words. She had said them without thinking, but she wasn't about to take it back. Anticipation tightened her belly and she held her breath when he leaned toward her and took her face in his hands. His touch awaked every single nerve ending in her body.

"Felicity, would you like to come see the mirror in my attic?"

She giggled before closing the distance, pressing her mouth against his. They both let out a moan at the contact, a long awaited desire finally being fulfilled.

Felicity put her hands on his thighs, but it wasn't enough. She needed to be closer to him, so she rose from the couch and shamelessly straddled his lap. She absentmindedly felt her knee bump into something but didn't pay it any mind - especially since Oliver's hand, taking advantage of their closeness, had sneaked under her shirt. She let out a breathy sigh when his cool palm wandered over her warm skin, and as her fingers came to lightly scrape his nape a groan escaped his throat and his own digits sinked into the flesh above her hip.

The touch was pleasurable but since Felicity was also ticklish it made her squeak, effectively breaking the moment.

Oliver laughed when he realized what happened. "Really?"

She shrugged and grinned.

He brought his hand to her cheek, caressing it softly, looking at her in wonder. "I've been wanting to do that for a while."

"The feeling was mutual," she replied softly and their lips met again, less urgent but still passionate. She particularly enjoyed the way he was nibbling at her lower lip.

"My butt is wet."

She looked down and noticed the thing her knee had bumped into was her glass of water, which had pooled around Oliver's behind, effectively dampening his jeans.

She chuckled. "Oops, sorry."

"I'm not. That was really worth catching a cold."

"That's not...how catching a cold works."

"I know. I was joking."

She shook her head before reluctantly getting off of him, letting him go change. He pressed a soft kiss on her lips.

"I'll be right back."

She watched him leave, the sentiment of elation in her heart battling heavily with all the consequences this was going to entail.

Things just got a lot more complicated.


End file.
